


Roses and Ash

by breejah



Series: A Court of Wishes and Dreams (ACOTAR Fanfic Series) [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal Transformation, Dystopia, F/M, Mating Bond, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rough Sex, Sex, The Court of Nightmares (ACoTaR), The Spring Court (ACoTaR), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breejah/pseuds/breejah
Summary: A human woman is transformed into a high fae against her will and launched into a dangerous game of espionage and murder amongst the broken Spring Court and the shattered human realms around Prythian. As she struggles to come to terms with her new life, she soon realizes her savior and only ally wears the title of Betrayer and Monster.Set after ACOWAR/during ACOFAS. Tamlin and OCs. Will involve mature themes, PTSD and dystopian tones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** So, I finally read the well-praised ACOTAR series. I fell in love with the characters and found a kindred spirit in Maas’ writing of the fae species (as that’s how I’ve always seen them myself in the Laby fics I write). Reading this series inspired this fic as an ode to Tamlin, who I don’t think is a bad guy, he has just made some notably bad decisions throughout the series thus far. I hope to see Maas use the character development she’s hinted at in her series to give him a much-deserved HEA, but until then - this is my answer to that.
> 
> This will be ICly cannon as far as character motivations, but most (if not all) characters that are linked to the Spring Court outside of Tamlin himself will be OC characters, as is his love interest. No, they’re not self-inserts, I just wanted a separate character from what’s been introduced so far in the series to allow Tamlin to heal and find happiness. I think Maas might know that as well, so I hope Tamlin finds a mate in either the human worlds or another new character, since so many are already (and with good reason) prejudice against him.
> 
> This fic will cover torture, PTSD, sex, and some dystopian themes, given the state the Spring Court and the world at large has been left in after ACOWAR, so prepare for such themes. I will tag the fic appropriately, but don’t expect much chapter warnings.
> 
> This is set somewhere around ACOFAS but I didn’t feel the need to distinguish exactly when and told via third-person omniscient and third-person limited perspectives. No offense to my first-person writers, this is just what I enjoy most and am most comfortable with.
> 
>  **Typical disclaimer:** I own nothing but the OCs. This is just a lowly fanfic writer mucking around in SJM's IP and trying to have fun in the process. This is the first entry in an "AU"-styled fanfic series, [A Court of Wishes and Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1162292). Enjoy!

 

_"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are stronger at the broken places." - Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

_Part 1 - Death & Rebirth_

* * *

 

She had nightmares every night. It was always the same nightmare, too. She was torn from her bed in the servant quarters of the castle where she served as a cook’s assistant, a lamp thrust crudely into her face by a nameless guard, the brightness of the light searing her eyes as her queen came into view and stared at her like a piece of livestock.

“She will do,” the woman had whispered. Those words still haunted her, distorting and taking on a menaced nuance that no doubt had been there before, but not as visible or apparent.

 _She will do._ Spoken like she was no more than a simple sacrifice, a simple discarded bartering chip at the gambling table.

She had been winnowed away after that, by a brutish high fae with a sneering face, and taken before the monster who wore the title of King. _King Hybern_ , her mind reminded her.

He had sneered at her, glancing at the human queen to her side. “Are you sure? I do not waste the cauldron’s powers on nothing, you know. There will be a price for this.”

“I have seen what fate awaited my sisters. Forgive me if I do not accept your bargain in good faith,” was all the queen said. Panic was beginning to erupt from her senses, not knowing what was in store, but she still fought with everything she had, determined to not go quietly to whatever ill-fated end the queen had decided she was to accept without complaint. She had clawed until her fingertips bled and screamed until her vocal chords surely ripped at the roots, her voice growing hoarse and raspy to even her own ears.

It still wasn’t enough.

As she was shoved forward off that ledge and into the yawning pit of hell beneath her, the last thought that Shula Gallagher had was - _Why me?_

After that, only pain existed.

* * *

Shula sat up sharply, gasping and shivering in the dark, wrapping the coarse wool blanket she had been given over her shoulders. Her hair clung to her face in damp red tangles and her skin felt moist and filthy, dirt and grime coating her pale fingers. Tucking her knees to her chest, her ragged gown all but shreds against her form, she did her best to calm her breathing, feeling the impenetrable darkness of her cell press in on her like a living, breathing, thing.

Tilting her head, she listened, then sighed, still hearing silence. That had been all that greeted her for the past few weeks, in this dark cell of faebane-laced stone. She was a captive, hidden away in secret, stored for Gods knew what, awaiting her fate.

She didn’t remember much since she rose from the cauldron, a newly-made High Fae. She supposed, from what she had gathered in gossip from the guards that fetched her food every day and shoved it through the hole in the wall beside the door, that the mortal queen who had done this to her had thought to make sure that King Hybern did not force another mortal queen into a trickery of sorts. It was said one of the queens had been granted immortality, but not youth, condemned to spend eternity as a haggard crone. Shula thought it was simply due diligence for her treachery to her people and the world at large. It was also said that the queen who had offered her up to Hybern was outraged, having fully expected Shula to perish or suffer some life-altering mutation like the rumored crone.

Rage kindled sharply in the back of her mind as she thought about what _her_ queen had done to her. She was no longer human, no longer allowed back home, kept in a stone hole in the ground laced with a substance that she didn’t understand but somehow made her weak, defenseless. She had starved some weeks, when whispers of the war began, the guards too busy with whatever else they did during their hours away to worry about some insignificant human-turned-fae.

Bitterness had been her only companion during those times. She had thought of ways to break free, ways to extract her revenge on the queen, the King of Hybern, and anyone else who had played a role in the fate she had been dealt, but bitterness didn’t soothe an empty stomach or calm a frightened set of nerves from the nightmares she had every night since that fateful day with the cauldron.

Quietly settling back down, she sighed and tried to find some solace once more in sleep, still feeling the lingering taste of nightmares against the back of her mind.

* * *

 

The birds chirping amongst the flowering forest suddenly took flight when a roar shook the foundations of their branches. Foxes ran, darting for their hidden dens, as a flash of fur and talons whirled by, on the hunt for any remnants of Hybern sympathizers in the area.

The beast was alone, not that it needed company. As it ran, creatures of four feet and two feet fled alike, panting in fear, leaving a scented trail for the monster to follow. That’s what this creature was, no matter what manner of footing it found itself transformed to.

_Betrayer, Unworthy, Broken, **Monster** …_

Whispers filled the monster’s head and it roared once more, both to banish the harsh words that richoted in its head and to frighten the others it pursued. After Rhysand warned him of the humans and others clogging his courts, Tamlin found solace not in rebuilding tentative truces between his people and the new resident humans, but in seeking revenge in any Hybern forces that still lingered in his lands, something he had agreed to to his everlasting regret.

_Betrayer, Unworthy, Broken, **Monster** …_

The words started once more as the beast caught up to what he sought, a pair of guards wearing Hybern colors, a set of keys jangling from their sides. Their scent and the sound of those keys are what alerted him to their presence a few miles back in the first place.

Giving into the easily-sought rage, the beast launched itself, tearing down one guard and quickly subduing the other. As the first tried and failed to snag the beast with a knife, the other pleaded for mercy in broken words, listening to the sounds of his brother-in-arms die beneath the onslaught of claws and fangs and endless fur-bound strength.

“Please, d-don’t, don’t, I have children,” the fae sobbed, wrenching the set of keys from his hip, holding them up with trembling fingers as blood sprayed from the other, coating the beast’s fur, the forest floor, and the man who begged for mercy.

A vicious snarl was all that the beast responded with, prowling closer, no longer lunging with intensity but stalking its next victim with a merciless golden gaze. Something in the fae seemed resigned then, almost accepting, sagging in the swells of his armor.

“Y-You’re right, I served, I deserve my fate. But...she doesn’t. There’s a girl, a woman, not far from here. You could…”

Before the fae could finish his words, an arrow whistled through the woods, piercing the fae’s eye that was unshielded by his helmet. With a roar of anger, the beast whirled, taking off after the scent of the intruder that it hadn’t noticed, too intent on taking down its next victim. Finding nothing, it stalked back to where the two guards lay dead, then shifted - the grotesque sounds of bone, fur, claws and fangs retracting and reshaping - until nothing but a naked blonde man, covered in the blood of the fallen before him, stood in its place.

Leaning down, he frowned as he picked up the keys, tracing their shape in his bloodied hands.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Several days later, as Shula laid sprawled across the floor of her cell, she realized something important: Her mother had lied to her about how swift and cruel death was. Death wasn't swift, it was agonizingly slow, feeling her vocal chords and stomach turn brittle, dry and paper-thin, yet unable to perish completely, just living painfully on that ledge that dangled between life and death.

Each breath became worse than the last as Shula tried once more to lick her lips, feeling their cracked dryness with excruciating detail.

_Just let it end already._  She struggled to keep her eyes open and wondered if this was finally it, the end she had begun praying for with more fervor than she ever had mustered in mass back home, in the human lands, as her mother admonished her to pray harder to any god that would listen.

Suddenly, a screeching noise brought her back from the hovering blackness at the edges of her vision. She frowned, blinking slowly, as daylight spilled into her cell. She heard a soft string of curses from a deep voice - a male - and the soft grind of the pebbles and dirt of her cell under quick feet, approaching from her left. She tried rolling her head to meet the face of her would be jailer, or savior - she wasn't quite sure which yet - but she couldn't find the energy to do it.

"Help me," she rasped, beyond rage, completely broken and begging for mercy. Her thirst was a ravenous monster, clawing and shredding her insides.

She felt herself being lifted and the action almost toppled her into unconsciousness and she moaned, even that action causing her pain. She tried to move, to lift her head or drag her hands across the person who held her, but even that was beyond her capabilities.

"Hold still, woman. I will help you," came a soft growl near her left temple. She inhaled sharply, taking in the scents of forest leaves, flower pollen and balmy air peppered with warm summer scents. She stopped struggling then, the scent lulling her back to the edge of consciousness, and slipped quietly into a troubled slumber.

* * *

 

Hours later - or was it minutes? - she gagged, feeling water close in on her wind pipes as she breathed softly. She sat up, still in the arms of the stranger, heaving and weakly vomiting up the liquid he had been attempting to force down her throat.

"Easy, easy," came the familiar rumbling voice and this time, when the leather waterskin was held to her lips, she drank greedily. She lapped and moaned softly as rivulets of the cool water dripped off her chin, wetting her clothes and torso.

"Not too much, you've been a while without water. It'll only make you sick," the male replied, making her slow her swallows but unable to completely pull away. Eventually, he took away her choice as he pulled back the waterskin and she let out a soft cry of protest, only to feel something else pressed against her mouth with thick fingers. She obliged with quiet surprise, opening her mouth and letting the fingers thrust something into her mouth and bit down, groaning at the taste of roasted fish in her mouth.

"Small bites, like that...yes, keep going…"

Eventually, Shula was able to turn her head as the man pressed another small morsel of the roasted fish to her mouth, her fingers clutching at his wrist as he fed her. She stilled, staring into the warm green eyes of a fae male, swallowing as she studied his golden skin and long blonde hair. He was gorgeous, shirtless and muscle-bound, with large kind eyes and full lips for a man, from what she could tell where he had her tucked against him, her filthy gown and form sprawled in his lap.

"What…?" She started to ask, but he shook his head and simply fed her again. She moaned, clutching at him, her eyes closing as she shuddered at the sensation of food sliding into her stomach after weeks of starvation.

She heard his soft chuckle and pulled back, staring into his eyes. She frowned, leaning forward and tracing his ears, feeling him still underneath her.

"You're...fae." She asked, stating the obvious and feeling like a fool, but he was the first she'd ever seen beyond the guards.

He nodded, tipping his head to the side, then used the hand that had fed her to trace her own ears. "So are you."

"Not until recently," she whispered, fear and adrenaline shooting through her limbs. He frowned, stilling, hearing her words, and his eyes suddenly narrowed. She could tell he wanted to press her for more answers, but fatigue suddenly flooded her senses as her fear abated and she sagged against him. He held her close and lowered her to the forest floor, curling up against her when she shivered.

"Sleep," he commanded, and she obeyed.

* * *

 

When she woke once more, it was nightfall. The canopy overhead was too dense for her to pick out the stars, but the firelight from the small campfire beside her rippled and danced along the leaves overhead, casting the shadows aside.

Hearing a faint rumbling to her left, she tipped her head and slowly sat up. In the distance, a pair of golden eyes stared back. She froze, her own eyes widening, as the orbs drew closer, the shadows melting away to reveal a monstrous beast with golden fur, a lupine head, and large curled horns. It's mouth was red and wet and she realized that it had killed something recently.

Still, the longer she stared into those bottomless depths of the beast's gaze, she didn't feel fear. She felt protected, and eventually relaxed, curling her feet underneath her.

"Hello," she finally said into the stillness that had descended around the forest, interrupting the silent stare between her and the beast.

As if emboldened, it stepped forward, its gaze traveling over her body, like a predator observing its prey. Shula simply stared back, and when it was close enough, she held out her hand. The beast snarled, its fur rippling in places, but when her fingers grazed the soft stiffness of its fur, it purred. She smiled, stroking it for several minutes, then blinked and snatched back her hand as it let out a soft moan of pain and then reshaped into the man she remembered from before, wincing at the sound of snapping bones and muscles and tendons reforming in the process.

"Holy shit," she finally blurted, once he was kneeling in front of her, completely naked, the spattering of red still present around his mouth. She tore off a piece of her rotting gown and offered it to him, simply staring as he took it and wiped his face clean then casting it aside. He studied her, his green eyes sharper than before, as if seeing her in a new light.

"You were not afraid…" He replied, the comment more a statement than a question. She shrugged as her eyes lowered, a blush creeping up her face as she inspected him -  _all_ of him. He was larger than she remembered, well muscled, his long blonde hair cascading around his face, ending in snarls of tangled golden curls around his shoulders. His legs were as heavily muscle-bound as his torso and his sex…

Shula swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar warmness creep into her core, her body shuddering as she imagined what it would feel like to have something like  _that_  inside her.

He stood, frowning, reaching to her side to grab a pair of plain breeches, shrugging them on and tucking that large part of him inside. She stared, still able to see its outline through the linen, and his sharp intake of air drug her eyes back up to his face. He seemed amused but the gleam in his eyes faded as he looked to the campfire.

"The fire needs more kindling. Tend to it while I return with dinner."

Turning and leaving before she could say anything else, he wandered back into the stillness of the surrounding woods. Shula swallowed and did as he asked, rising and picking up dry brittle sticks from the surrounding area that she could find. Returning with them to the campfire, she fed them to the flames, watching the fire reshape and strengthen.

Eventually, she heard him return, looking over and spotting him with more cleaned fish with him. He settled beside her and demonstrated how to skewer the filets on a stick and roast them above the fire. She followed his guidance and together they watched the fish cook quickly under the flames.

"What's your name?" She asked, as they pulled their respective dinners from the fire and began to pick at the warm cooked meat with their teeth.

She watched him still, then resume eating, his eyes shifting from his dinner to her. "You first."

She shrugged, dismissing his smirk, staring back into the fire. "I'm Shula. I was a cook's assistant for one of the mortal queens on the continent. I was snatched from my bed in the dead of night, taken to that monster King Hybern as an...experiment. Apparently, the last time a mortal queen went into that pit they call a cauldron, things didn't go as planned. I was their insurance policy to make sure things worked properly before another went in."

She snapped her fingers, a bitter smile tugging on her lips as she looked his way, noticing he had gone deadly silent, his green eyes glowing in the light of the campfire. "And just like that, off I went, shoved into that...that…"

She shuddered, returning to her food, then suddenly dropping the fish when the emotions she felt as she tumbled into that thing hit her, turning aside quickly and retching, the forcefulness in which she vomited bringing tears to her eyes - or maybe it was the soft sobs that shook her frame between retches.

She felt his hands at her back, his soothing words as she tried - and failed - to gain control of herself. She shuddered and gagged again, but this time nothing came up but bile. Still, the viciousness in which she heaved made her moan softly in pain and she felt him press the waterskin into her hands. She thanked him, slowly rocking back on her heels and rinsing her mouth out.

"I am very sorry that happened to you," he murmured, still close, his hands still stroking along her back. She gasped, sucking air into her lungs as her stomach roiled and slowly calmed, spitting out the water, nodding faintly with a frown.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just...that thing...the way it  _felt_  when I was inside of it…" She jerked forward and gagged again, but this time it was only dry heaves. Eventually, when they slowed, she sobbed and covered her face with her hands, giving into the helpness sensation she felt in that place. She felt him lift her and drag her into his lap, where he held her like a small child until she calmed once more.

"Why am I so weak?" She finally muttered, completely spent in his arms, feeling utterly fatigued once more and angry for it.

"The stone cell they kept you in, it was laced with a substance we call faebane. It weakens a fae's innate powers and strength. It will leave your body soon, do not worry." His hands slowed, settling around her waist, and she sighed, taking comfort in his strength.

"I have powers?" She asked, surprised. His fingertips trailed circles along her hips.

"Perhaps, I do not know. There are not many Made fae in the world. Those that are have them, but they're unpredictable. We shall see in time what yours might be."

That frightened her and she stiffened in his arms. "Not many of me? What if they're strong...my...powers? What then? What does your people do with those like me?"

"You have nothing to fear, Shula. I will protect you," he murmured softly, making her tip her head back at the gentleness she heard there. When he looked down at her, she believed him.

"You never did tell me who you were," she replied slowly as his intense stare began to make her nervous, prompting a slow smile from him in response.

"I am Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court." He replied slowly, then tensed, his eyes and jaw hardening, as if waiting for her to shove herself out of his grip. When she simply stared blankly at him, he blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You do not know of the Courts? Or the High Lords?"

"No, should I?" She asked, shaking her head slowly. The hard edge that had been present before in his eyes seemed to dissolve and he relaxed under her. "I take it that's something most know about you?"

"Yes," was all he replied, resuming his soft stroking of her hips. She shivered, realizing suddenly how close she was to him. He seemed to sense it too, but didn't encourage her to move away. Eventually, he tugged her to him as he slowly lowered to the forest floor, reaching out with a hand to smother the fire. It immediately winked out, just with his hand hovering near it.

She shivered and gasped, her eyes wide, unable to contain her shock. "How did you  _do_  that?"

"Magic," he replied with a chuckle in her ear. She shivered again, feeling his hands curl around her and tug her up against him, the heat of his skin warming her against the cool foggy air that descended around them with the heat of the campfire gone. Wriggling closer, she heard a soft purr escape his lips as she stilled, feeling  _that_ pressing against her. It wasn't quite hard, but not quite soft either. Licking her lips, she tried to calm her pounding heart, wondering if he could hear it. His hands clenched a little tighter against her sides and she felt him briefly throb against her backside. She stilled and he relaxed beside her, keeping her close. The growing presence at her back seemed to slacken and she tried to drag her thoughts to what she would do now with her life since she was freed - but all she could think about was  _that thing_  pressed against her back and what it might feel like  _in her._

Suddenly, a small giggle burst from her as she thought of the ridiculous situation she was in. He pulled her closer, his mouth and nose resting close to her neck, feeling his lips tug into a smile. "What's so amusing?"

"It's just…" She started, trying to stifle a giggle but unable to, yawning faintly. "I've never slept beside a man before. You're very warm. I kind of like it."

She felt his body tense once more in surprise, but before she could make out his rumbled response, she was fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild A/N and Chapter Warning for those Squeamish: Brutal character death for MC character development.

A rustle in the nearby wood had Tamlin instantly alert, his predatory senses flaring to life as he tilted his head up from the forest floor, daylight just peaking between the branches overhead. His eyes and ears and nose scoured the area, filtering through the layers of surrounding woodland to locate the source. Leaves stirred on branches as birds and other innocuous life rose with the sun, and the small noise that had grabbed his attention from the edge of consciousness was merely a small bold fox that had stumbled upon their campsite, curious about the remains of their dinner across the clearing. As his eyes settled on the animal, his memory flared to life with a surge of bitterness, remembering to less than a year ago when his best friend wore such a face, frozen under the guise of a gilded fox mask with Amarantha's curse.

He growled softly, keeping the sound low, as he scared the fox off in the distance, watching it pick up the remaining carcass of the fish and dart back to its den. He frowned, feeling a hollow sadness spring to life in the center of his chest at the fox's sudden dismissal, not unlike what Lucien had done when Feyre left him and his court in shambles not long ago.  _After everything we endured together, you left me, for_ _ **her**_ _..._.

He struggled against the sudden consuming rage that hit him, stiffening as he resisted the urge to give into the violent outbursts he was now infamous for. His talons sprung free from his nail beds and he visibly shook with the effort to not combust into a flurry of twisting bones, tendons and fur and launch himself into the forest with a roar, determined to tear into the first thing that caught his eye - just in an effort to temporarily sate that abrupt deluge of ire and bitter betrayal that poured from his festering heart. Those emotions tore at him more sharply than any blade ever could, flaying at his rotting insides like a possessed spirit, threatening to drive him mad. He craved the beast in moments like this, when his emotions threatened to consume him whole, destroying him and anyone near.

The air around the campsite spontaneously crackled to life with static, glinting and sparking in the sunlight, making his hair and skin feel charged with unspent energy, desperate to be torn free from its bindings. The forest around the campsite once more went eerily quiet, as if afraid of becoming noticed while he struggled to contain his fury. It was only for the still-sleeping female at his side that he was able to slowly soothe that rage into a dull ember of remorse and hurt, panting raggedly with the effort. Eventually, the air settled and he shuddered as he did what he always struggled to do for years since being thrust into the role of High Lord - he relaxed and let his anger seep away into a cool sense of detachment, enjoying the sensations of calm emotions balming against his blackened soul. He had no illusions anymore about himself, he was damned in a way.

_I get why you left. I was not the Lord, or the friend, I should have been to you, or to her. Why didn't I just acknowledge her unhappiness? Her thinning frame? Her resistance to coming with me when I told her she had been manipulated? And why didn't you tell me about Ianthe? Did you think I knew? I didn't. If I had, I would have…_

His mind wandered to an even earlier time, at his outbursts at the High Lord meeting. He grimaced, slightly ashamed now of his choice of words back then, but still felt justified in voicing them, even if the timing had been less than ideal. All they had been through, all they had endured Under the Mountain - and all she could send him was a  _simple letter?_  A simple letter, cutting off their relationship that had been built on love and pain and death and redemption? Less than twenty words from her, after all that had happened. Was she really so shocked he went mad with grief and panic, wanting to get her back so desperately, if even to just  _understand?_

_I loved you. I was hurting. I panicked and I made bad choices, but you only saw your own problems, never mine. I also admit I never acknowledged yours, but I wanted to. I wanted to, but I was afraid to, I was struggling so hard to keep my own demons at bay. Why didn't we try harder? Was I so evil? I didn't beat you, I didn't rape you, I didn't…_

He growled softly again, remembering her glare in that council meeting.  _But that's just it with you, isn't it? I didn't do_ _ **anything**_ _. Or I did do something, but it was never the_ _ **right thing**_ _. Why didn't you just_ _ **tell me**_ _you were miserable?_

Rolling to his side, he sat up slowly and ran a hand through his hair with a sharp breath, dropping the sad regretful thoughts rumbling in the back of his mind. Making an effort to calm his breathing so he did not disturb his sleeping companion, he let his eyes trail slowly over her form. His rage, bitterness and regret shifted suddenly as he stared, turning into a slow burn of arousal as his gaze studied the hint of pale fleshy curves at her hips and breasts - or what he could make of them peeking through layers of caked dirt and the ragged remains of her dress.

Despite the obvious malnourished look about her, the softness he saw in her hips and breasts told him when she was finally back to a reasonable weight, she would be - in her own way - a very distinctive female. Others wouldn't necessarily call her beautiful, but she incited something in him by the way she held his gaze, in both male and beast form, completely unafraid. Because of that, he couldn't help but compare her to Feyre.

Feyre had been bitter, stubborn and withdrawn, all sharp edges and barbed words, when they first met that fateful winter night. She was so starved she looked more boy than girl, more prepubescent man than woman. Shula was warm, inviting, and carried an openness he hadn't seen in centuries. He had grown so accustomed to the bitter callous ways of high and lesser fae alike, with their own agendas, revenge plots and scheming - especially since the end of the war - that her inexperience and lack of concern about his title and his history left him feeling relieved and refreshed. He had never encountered someone like her in all his years as High Lord.

Despite her lack of probing questions, Shula didn't strike him necessarily as a simpleton. She was well aware how deep the cruelty of mortals and fae alike could be, considering what she had experienced and what state he had found her in. It was simply an openness, a willingness to discard rumor and only judge on actions taken she could see, that tugged at him so deep, he found himself delaying any inevitable separation he would face with her. He  _liked_  her company and she liked his. It was simple, easy, and he hadn't had that in a long time.

No, he was not ready to let go of his new companion.

Her hair was a matted red mess, very similar in shade to Lucien's, but it was her eyes that held him the most - large, almost too large for her small heart-shaped face, swallowing up all her other features. Her nose was sharp and her lips full but her  _eyes_  - they glowed like warm honey in the sun with flecks of toasted almond and oat in their depths. Her skin was remarkably unblemished for her coloring, having expected at least a hint of freckles with her pale skin, but there were none. He desperately found himself wanting to inspect her breasts, her sex, to see what treasures they held. Were her nipples coral colored or pink? Was her sex musky or sweet? Would she shy away and blush if he dove between her legs or would she ride his face with abandon?

With those thoughts snagging in his head, he was instantly hard. He gritted his teeth, shifting his hips where his cock flared rapidly to life against his trousers, slightly painful in its sudden demand with his rising pulse that he  _take, take, take._  His talons throbbed in his fingers and in an effort to calm himself, he ground his them into the soft earth beneath him as he let his gaze trail back to her breasts and stare, hoping to catch a hint of an answer to his earlier question. His pulse roared in his ears and his fangs elongated, and soon he was closer to losing control right then than before when rage fueled him. He wanted to fuck her,  _badly_ , but he would not ruin this. He wouldn't be able to handle her looking at him with disgust - the only person in recent memory that didn't immediately label him  _betrayer, unworthy, broken,_ or  _monster._

Rising quickly, feeling his hunger for her spike towards dangerous levels that he might not be able to overcome, he jerked off his trousers and took off into the forest, feeling safe to shift and roar in satisfaction only when he was several hundred yards away, determined to sate his hunger in another fashion - by hunting.

* * *

 

Shula stirred, yawning and stretching, shivering faintly as she let her eyes focus on the green canopy overhead, a small smile tugging at her lips. She hadn't had a nightmare last night - the first time in weeks. It felt amazing, rising without fear of losing the contents of her stomach or riding exhaustion immediately upon rising.

She turned, intending to see what their plan was - was he taking her somewhere? Where was she to go on his land? What was she to do with her life now? But all that was gone when she realized she was alone. She shivered again, realizing his absence was what made the small clearing seem almost chilly this early in the day.

Dimly, as she slowly rolled off the floor, she heard the roar of the beast in the distance. She noticed Tamlin's discarded trousers and bits of torn earth around their makeshift bedding area and smiled, realizing he must already be searching for breakfast. At a loss for if she should wait or look for him, she suddenly noticed two things that needed immediate attention - her bladder and her appearance. She was filthy and felt her cheeks heat in mortification for how she must have looked to Tamlin. Her fingers were nearly black, and her knees and arms were coated in grime. Her dress, which had once been white, was mottled in greys and browns and blacks of soot and dirt and grime from her cell. Wrinkling her nose, se gathered Tamlin's trousers, folding them over her arm, as she set about cleaning up their campsite. In a manner of minutes, she had the evidence of their campfire brushed across the forest floor and the small remaining carcasses of their fish dinner buried under a layer of dirt and dried leaves.

Looking around slowly, still not spotting the now-familiar beast, she ducked behind some brush and took care of her immediate bladder's needs then sat out to find water, assuming he would be able to track her scent - she certainly  _smelled_  ripe enough, figuring he shouldn't have a problem. She sniffed herself and chuckled with a hint of revulsion, shaking her head.  _Ugh, I smell like a pig, this is disgusting._

She canted her head and listened, hearing a soft rush of water in the distance. She grinned and took off after that sound, surprised to hear it so clearly from such far a distance, quickly moving through brush and mossy undergrowth alike, the ground floor flora growing more abundant and lush, telling her she was heading in the right direction. Sure enough, there it was, the source of the noise - a small creek, but wide enough she could undress and bathe.

She hurried over to the edge of the creek, studying its depth. She trailed along the banks for several yards until she found a low area where it welled up in a natural dip in the land, knowing this was the perfect spot. She relished the freedom she had to move, sprint, scramble and walk along the moss-covered boulders near her little pool, not realizing until that moment how she had taken the simplest things in life for granted - like sunlight and the ability to stretch your legs.

It was nice not being locked in a cage, and she realized Tamlin was right, she was already beginning to feel stronger since being freed. Her hearing already proved to be far superior to when she was a human and her eyes could catch so much more than before. It almost felt like being reborn, so utterly different than who she once had been. She swallowed, realizing just then that she truly recognized she was no longer normal, human Shula. She was Shula, high fae.

Once more, she thought of the male who had helped her. He was handsome but guarded and she suspected for good reason. Despite the obvious feralness he had about him, more animal than male, she liked him. She grinned faintly to herself as she thought of the odd High Lord -  _that's what he called himself, right? A High Lord?_ She smiled as she mulled over the words he had used.  _Does that make him some fairy tale prince? Or royalty?_

Briefly, that thought had her hesitating, but in the end, she simply shrugged. He would volunteer to expand upon himself when he was ready. She didn't know, nor particularly cared, who or what he was. For now, he was the male that saved her. That alone spoke volumes. If he had found her any later, she would have died of dehydration. Whatever was in his past that caused those shadows in his eyes was not her concern.

Still, she began to wonder once more about what she would now do with her life as she sat Tamlin's trousers aside on a large round boulder and began unbuttoning the front of her bodice. If he was a High Lord, he must own lands - or more likely, an estate. She laughed softly at the absurdity of asking him when he returned if he needed a cook's assistant, but then after a few minutes, figured it was the most reasonable question she could ask to begin thanking him for saving her life. Baking was the only real skill she had ever cultivated in her short life and it was the most she could offer him, if he would accept it.

She paused briefly, her fingers stopping at the buttons near her navel. Did fae even eat baked items? Or were they all like him, preferring to eat their meals fresh from a kill, transformed into monsters? Sighing, she resumed her finger's work of quickly freeing all her buttons, feeling foolish for not knowing the answers to any of these questions.

Fae were not welcome in her lands back home and hadn't been there in centuries, ever since the treaty and the wall kept them isolated from humans. Shula had not grown up wealthy and having no need for such stories of a mythical magical species in a land she figured she would never visit in her lifetime, she knew almost nothing about them. Briefly, that had her tensing, slightly afraid at how vulnerable that made her in this new, strange land.

A snap of a branch behind her had her whirling and dropping her thoughts, her eyes wide as she darted her gaze around but quickly calmed as she realized what the sound was - Tamlin, in beast form, staring at her from behind. She smiled, turning back to the creek, continuing to undress. "Good morning," she called over her shoulder. "Did you have fun frolicking in the woods alone?"

She was almost sure she heard the beast snort and grinned faintly. Some logical part of her mind told her she was playing a dangerous game, teasing a male that could shift into a creature that could easily kill her, but he had been so kind since he had saved her from that cell, that she quelled that fear.

Throwing caution to the wind, and a large dose of her propriety if her mother had been alive and beside her, she shucked off the gown and let it tumble to the ground, standing fully naked beside the small pool. The beast growled softly, the noise shivering up her spine. She looked back over at the beast and grinned, tugging lose her undergarments and, feeling particularly daring, turned completely around, resting her hands on her hips as she admonished him with a teasing tone. "It's rude to watch a woman bathe, especially one you don't know. Aren't you going to be a gentleman and go away now?"

The beast stared and she suddenly swallowed at the glint in its golden eyes, surprised at her response to its inspection, her teasing banter dropping completely as she studied the creature. Slowly, it hunched down, then began the horrific slow process of shifting into the male she knew, but she couldn't take her eyes away. It looked and sounded painful but at the same time, it was the most miraculous thing she had ever seen. She wasn't sure if she'd ever stop being in awe of what he could do, the kind of power he had. Suddenly, she remembered him telling her she might have powers too, once the faebane was gone.

She wished for the ability to be like him. In that moment, he was a God of the forest to her.

When he slowly stood up, after completely shedding off his beast form, she felt her cheeks heat as she inspected him. He made no move for his trousers, letting her eyes wander boldly over him, intricately studying him like she hadn't been able to in the camp fire and darkness from before. She swallowed as she watched his cock twitch, then flare eagerly, becoming aroused.

She jerked her gaze back to his face, slightly embarrassed at how long she stared, watching as his cock went from flaccid to impressively erect. His eyes gleamed hungrily in the sunlight as he caught her stare with his green one and then did his own slow perusal of her body.

She shifted nervously on her feet, knowing she was filthy. Still, he didn't seem to mind, and she watched as his talons once more sprang free from the tips of his fingers. The air even seemed to crackle and she shuddered, feeling her nipples pebble in the sharp static air.

"Well?" She asked again, keeping her tone teasing, despite the warm sluice of need that flooded her insides. "Aren't you going to turn around?"

"No," He rasped darkly, his eyes still roaming over her form, then stilling on both her sex and her breasts. She noticed the lisp in which he spoke and realized he bore fangs as well, the sharp tips of them cushioned against his lower lip.

A small thrill ran through her in how thoroughly he inspected her. She was pleased that he found her attractive, since she certainly thought he was beautiful. She had never,  _ever_  done something this crazy in her whole life and it felt  _freeing._

_First time naked with a male, first time seeing an erect one, too. Lots of firsts in this new body, it seems..._

Chuckling at his response, she simply shrugged a shoulder and moved towards the creek. "Fine, then stare away. I need to wash this filth off."

She stepped into the shallow pool, instantly lowering herself so the water rose to her shoulders, letting out a gasp of surprise at the cool temperature of the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stalk closer, and she used the moment to busy herself by scrubbing at her skin, pleased to see that the dirt and grime easily dissolved in the cool clear waters around her.

A soft growl emitted from the male as she turned and tipped her head back, doing her best to wash her hair, her breasts and torso thrust into the sunlight. She looked over at him and he was staring at them, his cock still thick and throbbing faintly, but he'd sunk into a crouch, his talons digging into one of the boulders, as he studied her while she bathed.

"Aren't you coming in?" She asked, looking up at him. He stilled, his eyes shifting from her breasts to her face, and she could have sworn once more she saw surprise and an odd sense of vulnerability there.  _What does a male who can shift into a beast of such great power have to fear from me?_

"Well?" She asked again, a parody of her earlier words, when he said nothing nor made an effort to move. He seemed to stare, coming to some internal conclusion, then slowly slipped into the water near her, keeping his distance, as if afraid she would bolt. She took pity on the wariness that she still saw in his eyes and grinned warmly. "You can come closer, it's alright. I'm not going anywhere. Do you think I would run away?"

"Yes," he replied, stilling just a few inches from her as he moved forward at her invitation, and she could have sworn she felt that velvety hardness gently brush across her stomach for a moment as she stilled, letting him as close as he was willing to come. His nostrils flared as he stared at her mouth, and that warmth in her core turned molten. She forced a calm smile to her face.

"Well, I wouldn't. I haven't so far, so why would I start now?" She gently teased again, determined to keep the banter between them positive and playful, dropping his gaze to slowly scrub at her legs under the surface of the water, dissolving the buildup of dirt and debris that had gathered there.

He shifted, turning around her in the water, then came close and began helping, his strong grip and talons gently rubbing over her shoulders and back, washing the grime from her confinement away. She shivered and he paused, but with her gentle coaxing of encouragement, he continued. That swell of empathy for him welled up inside her once more. What had made him so wary of being close to a female? "Do you think I would run if you touched me? I like it when you touch me…"

She paused, waiting to see how he responded, feeling his fingers pause in their scrubbing.

"You would if you knew what I was thinking," was all he replied, starting once more to scrub at her back in gentle slow circles.

"And what are you thinking?" She whispered, wanting to hear his answer.

"That if you let me, I would fuck you. Right here, in this pool, or against those rocks, or in the grass back by the campsite…" he murmured near her ear, making her jump slightly. She could have sworn she heard a small chuckle rise from him as he moved his attention to cleaning her shoulder blades. "Have you had many men before?"

"None, actually." She replied with a pleasant tone, despite the pounding in her ears. She felt her cheeks heat once more as she thought of what it might be like to slide his cock into her, wondering how full it would make her feel. "Does it...hurt?"

Tamlin jerked behind her, his hands pausing in their scrubbing. "You're virgin?" His tone sounded sharp, confused.

Shula frowned. "Why is that so shocking?"

Tamlin gripped her and turned her sharply, dragging her up against him in the water. She gasped faintly in surprise, feeling the hard thickness of him pressed between the two of them, pulsing softly against the soft skin of her stomach, as his green eyes clashed with hers. "Because you undressed before me and look at me like you want to ride me. Do virgins act like this in the human territories you come from?"

"Well, no," she struggled to reply, feeling her face flame, but determined not to apologize when she didn't feel she did anything wrong. "Does that make me somehow lesser in your eyes, that I don't shy away from such things?" She stared up at him, feeling anger and shock well up inside her at the potential hidden meaning in his words, her eyes heating as she refused to be baited in indignation. "Men constantly accept their craving of sex and affairs, so why can't a woman do the same, even if she's untried?"

Something in Tamlin's eyes softened and he reached up and cupped her cheek, swiping his calloused thumb across her lower lip. "I'm not judging you, Shula. I'm merely shocked someone hasn't plucked you already," he rumbled softly in response, reaching down with his other hand to cup her back and press his hips against her. She shuddered and eased into his grip, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of his cock pressed against her stomach. "How is it you've remained virgin?"

He sounded surprised, perhaps even pleased. She blushed, shrugging as she curled her arms around his shoulders. "Because I didn't find anyone I was interested in before."

Just to make sure he didn't mistake her interest, she curled one of her legs around the jut of his hip. She bit her lip to avoid grinning as she heard a soft snarl erupt from his throat, his cock pulsing slightly against her at the renewed friction between them. He leaned in and nipped at her throat. "By the damn  _cauldron_ , Shula. You're driving me crazy. I can  _smell_  you. Your skin, your scent, your cunt...it's goddamn delicious. You're  _wet._ You...want me to fuck you, too."

His bold words made her core throb and she moaned and she felt him tense again beside her, licking the hollow of her throat. "I admit," she gasped, struggling for words, "I have wondered a little what it might feel like for you to be inside me. I am worried if it will fit, though."

" _It'll fit,_ " he rasped sharply, reaching for her hips, his talons skating along her skin, trailing goosebumps in their wake. She held her breath as he canted his own, dragging down his cock from where it was pinned against her stomach, barely beginning to nudge its girth insistently between her thighs, but before they could complete the act a sudden loud noise in the distance startled them both.

Tamlin released her and whirled, splashing water as he roared, suddenly furious at their interruption, the magnitude of his wrath making the air around them heat and sizzle. She heard the shift of muscle and bone, seeing wet fur and horns sprout from his face and head, and he was off, tearing through the forest after whatever had stumbled upon them in the woods.

* * *

 

She was surprised at how easy it was to keep pace with the beast as it sprinted across the forest like a golden blur of death. She realized things seemed sharper, clearer, and it was easier for her to pick up on the subtle details around her: small snapped branches, crumpled leaves, small shifts in the scent of the forest around her and the absence of natural sounds around them. Her mind whirled, processing things faster than it ever had as a human, and she knew if she stopped to process it all, she would stumble and lose the trail she followed, simply overwhelmed. So she tapped into that animal instinct that fueled her veins, throbbing and pounding louder and louder, until she was one with the forest, leaping and jumping across dips and juts in the forest floor that she was simply incapable of before.

Pausing for a moment, gripping the side of a tree trunk as she panted, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, searching for that scent she'd begun to associate with Tamlin. Tilting her head sharply to the left, sensing the faint tease of flower pollen and musky fur, she released her grip and ran.

A roar in the distance, drawing closer, let her know she was on the right track.

She skidded to a stop at the edge of a boulder, staring down into a soft mossy ravine where the beast had a man in its maw, the human screaming and struggling to free it's arm from the beast's grip. A large clawed hand raised, ready to swipe down and end the intruder's life - when suddenly, her eyes caught sight of its surcoat over the heavy leather.

Shula tensed, her pulse roaring in her ears, as she stared at what the man meant.

It was the colors of her home country, telling her that  _they_  were in the woods,  _here_ ,  _nearby_. Those people were  _here_ , still serving under the crimson and blue and white flag of that mortal queen that had treated her like chattel. Did he know? Was he one of those guards that watched her slowly waste to nothing? Had he heard her beg for water these past few weeks and done  _nothing?_

Suddenly, a vicious snarl tore from her throat and she hissed, surging forward. White hot rage erupted from her soul and blotted out all other sensations except the need for revenge as she remembered what it felt like when she'd been thrown in that pit of pain and death. She had died in that pit and now, she didn't know who she was anymore. She had no people, no home, no sense of who she was anymore and it was  _all his fault_. Her limbs went numb, pain pouring from her chest - or was it her heart? - and she latched onto it and thought of nothing else but getting to that man first, being the one to draw blood from the bastard's throat.

_He is_ _**mine.** _

It wasn't until she saw the beast pause, swerving it's head her way and releasing the man's arm, that she realized she was sailing through the air - no longer on two feet but four. The pain she had felt was her transformation and she had become death.

As her paws hit the mossy stone, claws extended, the man tried to scramble back, his eyes going wide in terror as she launched herself at him with large feline grace, her golden eyes settled on his throat. Her ears went flat and she hissed, barreling over him, fangs extended, and as he tried to raise his arms and shield himself with a scream, she simply shredded through his resistance like a hot knife through butter. Ribbons of red sprayed and she howled loudly in ecstasy, her mouth widening, saliva dripping from her gums as she watched the rapid pulse of his terrified wretched heart pound against is neck. That pulse wasn't all she could sense - she could  _taste_ his fear and it was  _wonderful -_  and as her eyes zeroed in on his throat and she reached down and  _ripped,_ it was.. _.bliss_.

The taste of his blood, coppery and smooth on her rough tongue, fueled a lust in her she hadn't realized she had. The soft wet gurgles of his protest only fueled that lust harder and before she knew it, so drunk on that feeling, he was laying still beneath her, staring up at her with glassy eyes locked in the last horrific moments of his life.

Panting, hissing, she stared down at the torn remnants of the human scout, seeing those green eyes locked in the endless agony of his death gaze back at her. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the longer she stared, the more they seemed to bore into her face in soft accusation.

_Butcher..._

Slowly, the lust faded, a sensation of revulsion rippling through her as and she staggered back, no longer on four feet but two. She moaned, jerking a hand to her face, and realized the blood was still all over her, on her hands, in her hair,  _in her mouth_. A soft sob tore from her throat and she gagged, noticing it no longer tasted wonderful and instead tasted like ash in her mouth,  _coppery red ash_ , and she almost stumbled as she struggled to find her footing once more on two feet instead of four.

 _I killed him._ She couldn't stop staring at the body.  _I'm a murderer._ Her eyes flickered over the colors he wore.  _Did he know about me or was he innocent?_ Once more, those dead eyes stared back at her as she raised her eyes to his face.  _I'm a_ _ **monster**_ _._

Two large hands gently touched her shoulders before she fell once more, her bare feet slipping on sand between two boulders, easing her against his chest. "Shula...Shula, look at me, dearest.  _Shula_ …"

When he finally said her name on a sharp command, she turned, her eyes wide, horror on her face. "What have I done?" She whispered, staring into his sobered gaze, feeling his hand reach up and stroke her cheek. She winced, jerking back sharply, knowing he was coating his hand in that mess on her face, feeling one of his hands clamp down on her shoulder so she couldn't completely escape, but his hand on her cheek dropped faintly and she was able to see his palm now coated in blood. "No, no,  _no_...now it's on  _you_ , gods - I ripped his throat out, Tamlin, like some  _goddamn animal,_  I can still  _taste_  it, his blood,  _in my mouth_ …"

She gagged again, turning faintly, and that time she did get sick. Tamlin held her, and when she was done, he gently scooped her up in his arms and began to walk quickly away. She moaned, twisting in his grip, watching the corpse of the man fade in the distance. "No, we can't leave him like that," she sobbed faintly.

"I will bury it later.  _Stop,_ Shula. You did  _nothing wrong_ ," Tamlin's tone was firm, brokering no arguments, but it still didn't stop the tears as she scrubbed at her face, trying to wipe away the blood, the evidence. When she began to grow hysterical, he paused and grabbed her wrist with one hand, keeping her chained against him with one arm banded around her waist. "Shula! You did nothing wrong! I could smell the cell on him, Shula.  _ **SHULA!**_ "

She stilled at hearing that, her eyes raising to meet his. His green gaze was warm, concerned, and slightly resigned. She blinked, feeling tears slide down her cheeks, but he nodded slowly in confirmation at what she was finally understanding. "Yes, Shula. He was with those that trapped you in that place."

It should have made her feel better, but it didn't. He sighed softly, stroking a hand gently across her cheek once more, then gently picked her back up in his arms. She didn't protest, letting the strong beat of his heart distract her from the horror at what she had done.

As she looked briefly around them, seeing the forest change, becoming familiar, she knew where he was taking her, choking down a sob. He was taking her back to the creek's shallow pool in that dip of land she had found earlier so she could wash away her sins.

"You're not a monster, Shula." Tamlin's voice was soft as he rested his chin against her temple, his hands gently stroking her spine as he held her. She trembled, close to breaking, pressing herself tighter against his chest. She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump of confusion and horror as she reflected back to the man's death, not feeling any consolation for her actions, even if he had been an agent of that mortal queen or those fae loyalists that had kept her half-starved in that hole in the ground. It didn't excuse how much she had  _enjoyed_  it.

The soft splash of water had her stiffening in his arms, feeling the coolness of the water rise over her shoulders as he lowered them both in the pool. She clung to him when he tried to release her and he ran a soothing hand up her back. "I'm not going anywhere. Relax, let me wash you."

She wanted to cry at how gentle he was being with her and she nodded, forcing down that spike of wrongness that speared through her when she let him go, easing away from him only so his hands could gently pour water over her cheeks, her hair, her eyelids, her shoulders. She heard him ask to open her mouth and tilt her head back and she did, and he rinsed the blood from her mouth. She did sob then, slightly choking on the water, and once more he urged her to him, curling his hands around her waist as she sobbed brokenly into his chest.

"You're not a monster, Shula." He said the words over and over, but it still didn't help how she felt.

"Yes, I am." She whispered, another sob wrenching from her.

He stroked a hand across her hair, stilling and cradling her close. "So am I, so you're not alone. Never alone. Never again."

Somehow, that admission made her feel less horrible and lonely and she tightened her arms around his neck, feeling safe for the first time since she had emerged from that yawning pit of pain.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

_Part Two - The Bond_

* * *

She was quiet as he pulled away from her to finish washing off the blood from her body and hair. His hands were gentle, and she wanted to cry again, but her voice was hoarse and all she felt when she reflected on her actions was numbness. Despite his words comforting her, bringing her some measure of peace in recognizing this new, feral side of her wasn't just her burden alone to bear, she was still reeling from what she knew she would have to deal with, by all the evidence provided, a very long time.

"How old are you?" She whispered, feeling him still, as he gently scrubbed his fingers through her hair. He had turned her in the pool, cradling her hips between his knees, while he worked.

"Why?" He murmured, his tone guarded. She looked over at him, her expression serious.

" _How old?"_ She asked, her tone firm.  _How long will I live like this?_

"Centuries," he finally replied, his green eyes clashing with her golden ones. She shuddered, moving to turn away, devastation tearing at her insides, but he stopped her. She hesitated and stopped pulling away but wouldn't look him in the face. He frowned, dropping a hand from her locks to cup her cheek, tilting her head back up towards his. "Look at me, Shula."

She sighed, canting her eyes up, meeting his, resignation in her gaze. "What's wrong?" He murmured, stroking her cheeks with his fingers.

"I killed that man and enjoyed it. I was just wondering how long I would have to...deal with it." She admitted, wrapping her arms around her chest, feeling sick. "Does it ever go away? That feeling when you…"

She shuddered, unable to finish the rest, closing her eyes.

He was quiet, eventually resuming his washing of her hair, but didn't ask her to turn around. Instead, he pulled her closer, gently taking fistfuls of water and running it against the back of her head. She snuggled closer but was too disgusted with herself to touch him.

"Early on in my life, the wars happened. I was young when they occurred, unable to really fight in the battles, but...even then, I knew I was really only good at a few things. Killing was one of them."

She stilled, listening to him talk, as he continued to wash her. "Later on, after the wars ended, I realized I was...going to be like my father...a..High Lord. It picks one in the line of succession, not always the one you think. This power I have, it has a price. Fae are fairly ruthless and power hungry. Not unlike your mortal queen, I suppose."

He paused, turning and taking her hand, gently leading her over to a bare-faced boulder, where he urged her to sit, as his hands kneaded through her hair. She shivered as she felt the air around them heat, curling between his ministrations, and before she knew it, her hair was dry, cascading around her shoulders in waves. She still didn't open her eyes, feeling her skin drying as well, his hands gently smoothing over her arms, legs, torso, back, leaving her feeling clean and dry and refreshed in their wake.

"I was the youngest of three sons, to the previous High Lord of Spring, my father," He murmured, tugging her back against him, settling his arms over her hips. She tilted her head back, letting the movement of his chest lull her into a state of half-awareness, as he talked. "I..made some mistakes when I was younger and paid for them...dearly. My father and brothers were not good men, so I didn't mourn them too deeply when they were killed, but my mother…"

He trailed off, tensing, making her eyes open as she frowned. He seemed to sense her questioning posture and gently stroked small circles against her stomach, easing the tension in her. "It still hurts, but it is an old wound, one I've learned to live with. Relax, Shula. It is alright."

His tone was sad and soft as he continued. "Suffice to say, I inherited my powers rather abruptly. Ever since that night, I've struggled with...urges. I know what you're dealing with, Shula. The taste of blood in beast form is practically orgasmic. It's hard to stop, to not become totally lost to the sensations. There's been many times in my life I haven't, giving in fully. You're not the only monster here, Shula."

She wanted to ask him for more but another part of her didn't want to know, so she simply remained quiet.

"Sometimes, though...the beast is easier. It is honest in what it wants, at least, when I'm wearing that skin. When I'm in this form, I get so…" His voice turned rough, wounded, and she tilted her head back, seeing the harsh expression on his face. She swallowed, frowning, wondering what tore at him so constantly. She could tell he struggled just by his face, but he didn't add anything more and she didn't feel she had the right to ask.

Eventually, he pulled away from her and she curled her knees up against her chest, watching as he walked along the edge of the creek bank and knelt down to grab their clothes. He crouched along the edge of the pool, gently washing them, and she tipped her head to the side, studying him.

He seemed so lonely, so shouldered with burden, that she resolved to offer herself to him in any way that he needed. He had been kind to her when she needed it most. No one would have done the things he did for her, not if anyone from her home could see her now. He could have been cruel, but he was gentle. As he pulled their garments from the pool and squeezed the remnants of water from them, drying them with that odd power of his and handing her the dress while he slipped on his trousers, she stood and smiled faintly at him.

"What?" He asked her, turning and looking over her once more with a subdued hint of interest. When she shrugged her shoulders, he smiled faintly and helped her into her gown, buttoning all the clasps at her bodice like she was a child.

"Do you have a home or do all fae wander the forests like beasts?" She asked, curious.

He paused, staring at her, chuckling after a moment when he realized she was serious. She blushed but shrugged, honest in her ignorance of fae ways. Something akin to a shadow cast over his face for a moment, but he nodded slowly, placing his attention back on finishing the buttons of her dress. "I have a home. It's far from here, though. I've been hunting people like the one…"

He trailed off, watching her flinch at those words, reaching up to stroke her cheek as he finished the last button. "...they were in my court, from a broken alliance I had with them. They are no longer welcome, and I want to make sure they get the message. They need to leave Spring Court lands." When her eyes widened, he dropped his hand quickly, no doubt seeing the look of horror that flickered across her face.

"It's a long story," he murmured, his expression going distant as he tugged her hand into his, pulling her in a different direction than where they had camped last. She felt herself following, but her legs felt like lead as she moved, staring into space, as his words sunk in. Briefly, her eyes looked to his shoulders, noticing how tense he suddenly appeared. She frowned, feeling as if he was drawing into himself, and it made her wonder why. Had she misplaced her trust in him?

_He was their ally? Those...people? Did he know?_

"Did you know?" She whispered as she followed him, feeling his fingers tighten around hers. He glanced back at her, a closed expression on his face, as she stared back at him, shock written on her own. "What they did? To people like me, I mean?"

"No, not at first. When I figured it out, I...fought back in any way I could, but the King was powerful and my hands were tied. I didn't know there were others, but there were two I knew of. It was not something I agreed to when I allied with him. If I had known, I never would have accepted." He frowned, a tortured expression flickering rapidly across his face, then it was gone. He turned his gaze directly ahead, picking up his pace, that stony expression back once more. "I can't undo the past, Shula. No matter how much I want to. It is an alliance I regret and a price I will carry on my soul always."

Something in his voice had her instantly forgiving him, her hand squeezing his own. He looked back at her, the shadows briefly lifting from his eyes as he read her expression, but he didn't smile or seem reassured at her belief in him. He simply turned and tugged her deeper into the woods.

"Where are we going?" She asked, looking around.

"There's a cave nearby, I've used it before, when hunting. It's only accessible from a certain angle. I was sloppy in our last campsite, no doubt how that human found us. I will not make that mistake again."

The last sentence ended in a growl, making her hesitate as she followed him up a steady incline, her feet tripping on a few loose stones as they left the soft flora of the forest floor for more gritty, stony textures of a small rocky ledge. Quickly, he scooped her up in his arms, then started climbing again, surprising her at his swiftness. Before long, she saw what he meant - nestled to one corner, nearly missed, was a cave entrance, as the terrain grew harsher the higher they rose. The entrance was deceptively small, but when he ducked through, the cavity of the natural hole was large enough for them to spread out and start a fire. Her eyes roamed around the space and she saw bundles of kindling and a dusty sleeping pack, looking towards him questionably.

"Like I said, I've used it before," he murmured, setting her down. He moved back towards the entrance, glancing over his shoulder, his profile strong in the exposed sunlight from outside. "Start the fire, I will be back in a few hours with food. Sleep, if you can."

She nodded and watched him shuck off his trousers and leap outside, transforming mid-gait to the beast she'd grown so comfortable around. The creature paused, looking back at her at the edge of the forest, then turned, sprinting away, a faint roar heard in the distance.

She sighed and looked back at the cave's contents and set to work.

* * *

_Why did I tell her that? The look in her eyes..._

The beast growled as Tamlin berated himself, following the rapidly dwindling scent of the deceased human far in the woods, leaping gracefully across spans of clearings and clumps of trees alike.

_She will end up just like the others. She will hate me once she knows more about me. Don't I deserve it, though? Agreeing to work with him - and look what it caused? She thinks herself a monster. I'm the monster, allowing that male ever to set foot in my lands, to take innocents and twist them into…_

The beast growled as it paused, sniffing the air. He was close, shifting back to two legs, walking steadily along the area until he found the remains. He stared, looking at the torn and brutalized corpse of the human who wore the banners of the queen that had betrayed her. Her rage was evident in how thoroughly she had ripped his life from his limbs.

_...into things like me._

He knelt, tugging the body over his shoulder, then moved off to an area with softer ground, so he could shift to the beast and bury the body. He frowned, wondering why the idea of Shula hating him bothered him so much.

 _Because you'll miss her,_ his thoughts bantered back, making him grunt with annoyance as he found a spot, dumping the body on the ground and snarling as he shifted back to beast form. Its fur was coated in blood where his body once was, and it made quick work of digging a deep hole in the soft recesses of the earth, nudging the body into the void with his maw. Once deposited, it huffed, shoving dirt back over the corpse, then took off with a roar for food and a bath, not wanting to wear the scent of a kill before seeking out prey of its own.

* * *

The sound of rocks skittering outside roused her, her senses still jarring her at odd times, so much more sensitive than they were when she was a human. Slowly sitting up, shrugging off the musty blanket she had taken from the corner of the cave, she watched as Tamlin returned, holding up two skinned rabbits strung on large clean branches like a spit.

"How does kit meat sound for dinner?" He murmured, handing her the two spits, grabbing his trousers and tugging them on. Her eyes dropped briefly, still curious to always seek out that forbidden part of him, and she smiled softly, turning back to the small fire.

Jabbing them into the ground, she offered him a seat next to her and a cool cup of water in the tin she had found earlier when rummaging through the supplies. His eyebrows raised in surprise as soon as he saw it.

"While you were gone, I went back to the creek, where it curves up against the hill," she explained, hastily adding when she saw a frown beginning to tug at his features. "Don't worry, I was careful. I made sure my steps couldn't be traced."

"How?" He asked, sipping at the drink.

She looked back at the fire, keeping her voice low. "By shifting."

He stilled, and she looked back over at him. He seemed surprised, studying her curiously. "Why the look?" She asked, feeling tired, glancing back at the fire a moment to make sure she didn't have the meat hanging too low, not wanting to burn their dinner.

"You managed that quickly. It took me weeks to control it skillfully enough to access it on command. May I ask how you did it?"

She looked back at him, not expecting that answer. She finally shrugged. "I..willed it. I don't know. I remember what it felt like and asked my body to feel like that again. And then I did."

He nodded slowly, setting his drink aside, half-full. "It's similar when I summon it. That's...very good, Shula."

She didn't reply, not sure if she was ready to be comfortable that she could call out that side of herself so easily. "What does it look like?" She murmured, glancing back at him.

"Your beast?" He asked, studying her. She nodded. "You're...beautiful. The closest thing I can describe you as would be a large golden cat. You're not entirely one, like me, only borrowing parts of the animal, but...if I had to label it...I would say definitely feline."

She shriveled inside, hearing him refer to her as beautiful in that form. As she looked at him, she realized he was serious. She frowned, tipping her head to the side, watching him as his gaze remained steady on her. The tension in her eased, when she realized how she would describe his beast form as beautiful, if she was asked. "How do you accept it so easily?" She whispered, slightly in awe of how he seemed so at terms for what he was at times.

"Because it is a part of me and I must recognize that. To deny it will only make it worse, Shula. You are not a monster. A predator, perhaps, but most fae are. You just wear yours on the outside sometimes."

That made her faintly smile, somewhat at ease with this newfound side of her. He smiled back, then tugged her close, leaning over once she was settled against him to turn the meat, letting the other side cook. The cave slowly filled with the delicious scent of sizzling fat while they waited.

"You've learned an awful lot about me, now it's my turn. Tell me about you." He asked, his lips brushing against her temple. She shivered, studying the fire.

"There's not much to tell, I'm afraid. I'm an orphan, my father died before I was born of pox and my mother died a few years ago, the head cook to the mortal queen's castle. I was one of four apprentices and when she died, I had no favor with the new chefs that took her place. I worked constantly, too weary to look for friends or a husband. I simply existed to serve, to cook. It...sounds awfully boring and ignorant to you, I suppose."

"Not really," he murmured, curling a large hand around her waist. "I understand that feeling, the need to serve. I've done it most of my life, slave to one desire or another."

She wanted to ask what he meant, but he had more questions. Since he had already told her more about himself than she had expected him to, she answered each as honestly as she could.

"Hobby?"

"None, really. Perhaps a bit of herb collecting when I had the time."

"Favorite color?"

"Green. Or perhaps pink. I'm not sure, I have many."

"Favorite food?"

"Anything sweet. It's bad for my hips, when I have them, not that you can tell now. But I must watch myself, I can polish off a whole pie on my own." He had laughed at that.

"A missing beau? A…boy or man back home that you had a fancy towards?"

The last question caught her off guard and she paused, shaking her head and answering honestly. "No. No one." A soft purr escaped him and she hid a smile behind a curtain of hair.

The questions stopped as their supper became ready and she leaned away from him when he handed her the spit which housed her own. She blew against the charred rabbit meat and bit down, moaning faintly in pleasure as bits of drippings dribbled down her chin.

He looked over at her in amusement before contenting himself with his own.

After they were finished and took more tentative sips of the water she had collected, they settled down under the mat and blankets she had laid out, curling close, staring at each other as the fire roared quietly behind them.

Propping his head up with an arm, he reached out and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ears. She blushed, feeling his fingertips trace that oddly sharp point, and she shivered. He seemed to smile. "Still getting used to the pointed ears?"

"Yes," she whispered, staring at him. He was so handsome, especially by the light of the campfire, in the dimly lit cave. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and she swallowed, feeling bold. "Kiss me."

He stared, his green eyes bright in his face as they lingered on her lips, and he seemed to hesitate as he took a slow, shuddering breath. "We shouldn't," he murmured, dragging his gaze away from her mouth, towards her eyes, letting her see the dangerous internal struggle he was wrestling with. Raw hunger stared back at her. "If we do, you know where it will lead. I won't be able to stop, not with you."

"So don't stop," she whispered. He still stared, not moving, and she leaned closer, tipping her head up towards his. "Please? I need this. I need to feel this."

He leaned down, pushing her back against the mat, gently cupping her face. She waited, watching a flurry of emotions, too many for her to name them all, flash across his face. He tucked her hair under her head and dropped his mouth, nuzzling her jawline with his lips as he inhaled, as if allowing himself to get intoxicated on her scent alone.

When his eyes met hers again, they glowed. She swallowed at the intensity of the desire on his face but didn't shy away, letting him know she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. She opened her mouth to ask him why he was hesitating, when his mouth found hers, kissing gently, but deep, softly demanding she open to him. She did, and when his tongue traced against hers, she arched gently beneath him. He groaned, deepening the kiss further, and she felt his fangs extend as he tilted his head, demanding more and more as their kisses dragged on.

Feeling bold again, she flicked the tip of her tongue against one of his fangs, and he growled, reaching down and pressing her knees open so he could settle between them. She felt his hardness then, curling her ankles around his hips and urging him closer, his kisses turning savage, desperate and hungry, as he rocked against her, his cock sliding eagerly against her stomach, constrained beneath his breeches, the thick length grinding against her between the layers of their clothes.

" _Gods' breath_ , I want you," he breathed against her mouth, shuddering on a groan, as he bucked faintly against her. "...I want you so badly, Shula."

"So take me," she whispered, moaning as she felt the leash on his control slipping, as he dropped his angle and rubbed his hips suggestively against her own, that large thick band of him nudging at her core. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat, and before she realized it, his talons were out, skirting along her shoulders.

The air seemed to crackle and move and the fire flared brighter behind him. She looked down as his head snapped up, his chest heaving as he panted raggedly, stark hunger reflecting off the sharp angles of his face.

"Take off the dress. Right now." He ordered, sitting up sharply and tugging off his trousers. She swallowed, doing as he asked, staring at his erection as she did so. As soon as the dress was off, he was back on her, leaning over her and nudging her legs apart, struggling to control himself, his hands trembling, as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, sucking and nipping at the tips.

He sunk one, then two, fingers inside her, slowly testing her, gentle with his prodding, knowing his talons could hurt her. She briefly blushed, knowing she was wet, his fingers coating easily with her arousal. He growled softly against her breast, and suddenly she felt a sharp twinge of pain, making her yelp and tense, wincing faintly.

His head shifted up, looking at her. "Just trying to make it easier for you, Shula. You heal quickly. That will save you time and pain in a moment." He gently withdrew his fingers and she saw two claws coated in a sheen of blood. He had torn her barrier for her, making it easier than what it might have felt like if it had been his cock entering her for the first time.

She trembled with the realization of what was next. "Thank you," she whispered.

He settled over her quickly, urging her legs wider, pressing himself to her opening. She shivered as he gripped himself, making sure his angle was correct, then gently pressed the head of his cock inside.

She moaned, in both arousal and surprise, at the fit of him. He was large, almost uncomfortably so, but as he allowed her to adjust, she realized she could take him. "You fit," she gasped, struggling to breathe, watching a feral smile tug at his mouth as he nodded, dropping down over her as his hips steadily pressed forward. One hand stroked her cheek as he groaned, a tortured expression shifting over his face, while the other urged her hips to adjust to a certain angle. When she did, it made the next inch that slid into her glide easier into her warm depths.

She mewled again, the flare of discomfort rising, feeling him pant raggedly and still. "You're...big." She moaned, her body instinctively tightening around him. His face once more contorted in a mixture of pleasure-pain at having to stop.

"Just a little more, Shula. You've got to  _relax_ , dearest. It will fit," He rasped, nudging his hips down, despite the protest of her body. He groaned brokenly with the effort to not thrust harshly into her. " _Shula,_ dearest, _relax. Let me in."_

"I'm trying!" She whispered, panting as she struggled to ease her body's grip on him. He felt wonderful but uncomfortable at the same time, but no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to relax. He cursed, then tilted her head up sharply to his, kissing her savagely.

She was so startled by the kiss that when he thrust forward, burying himself in to the hilt, she screamed at the sudden movement. He growled, vibrating with the urge to move, but waited until her muscles finally seemed to relax, accepting him.

"I…" She sighed, relaxing under his weight, about to tell him that he felt  _wonderful_ , so heavy and thick inside her, and she could feel each tiny spasm, each pulse of his heart in his cock, from where he was buried, when she sensed it.

It was just as tiny tether at first, but when she frowned and tugged on the phantom sensation, she felt him jerk roughly atop him, his head snapping up.

"What is that?" She whispered, blinking slowly.

She didn't get a chance to respond as the snarl that erupted from him had the very walls of the cave shaking, then he was fucking her in demanding, driving strokes, making her brace herself against the sudden onslaught of pleasure that jolted through her, making her scream.

* * *

_My mate._

_My mate, my mate, my mate,_ _**my mate** _ _…._

Pure, elemental need poured from every cell in his body, making it something he couldn't wholly control. His cock, spurred awake by that innate call of finding what it had sought for centuries, drove him to complete the act he found himself in.

As he pounded into her, euphoria edging closer and closer with each thrust, his eyes opened, and he looked down at the fae female in his arms as if for the first time.

Suddenly, his instant connection to her made sense. She was a fae straddling two lines, one wearing two feet and one wearing four,  _just like him._  He wondered what other powers she would wield, like him, that had fate determining they were equals,  _mates_.

A longing he didn't realize that had been hovering around him suddenly eased, filling in that hole around his heart he hadn't realized had gotten so large. Immediately, he felt whole, driving himself harder and harder into her body, as if he could merge his soul with hers and never leave.

His cock screamed at him for release, but he'd make this good for her. "You're mine," he growled, forcing himself to slow long enough to find that spongy knot of flesh and rub it briskly between his fingers while he fucked her in long, slow strokes, feeling her tremble around him, so close to achieving her climax.

He needed to hear her say the words. "You're mine," he groaned, meeting her gaze.

Shula seemed transfixed on something in the distance, her face melting in pleasure, her eyes slowly shifting to meet his. She didn't seem to know what she was saying, her brow knitting, but his male satisfaction surged as he felt her say the words he needed to hear back to him. "I'm yours…" She whispered, licking her lips, "...and you're mine."

He surged, pounding into her hard and fast, as that bond between them knit and forged into a braided cord, tethering them together for eternity. She jerked, then moaned loudly, as it locked into place, and he felt it just as it snapped them together - her channel stuttered, then pulsed around him in long, squeezing tugs, milking his cock like nothing he'd ever felt before in his life.

He roared, fully giving into the urge to mindlessly rut into her willing body, fucking had and deep and endlessly for as long as he could stand it. His cock swelled inside her with each thrust, but he grit his teeth and held out as long as he could, knowing the longer he held back, the more explosive the end. When he felt her ripple of emotions across the bond, it was his undoing, and he broke, roaring until his voice turned hoarse and strained, surging against her and holding himself as deep as he would go, pouring himself into her.

Each spurt had him relaxing ever so slightly, until finally, when he was finished, feeling their mingled release pool around him, he let go of his body, rolling to his side and taking her with him. He wasn't ready to remove himself, gripping her tightly when she tried to ease him out of her, already feeling the tell-tale urge to fuck once more, his cock twitching and growing stiff.

She gasped, part in shock, part in her own sudden arousal, and he quickly pulled her atop him, showing her how to ride him as his cock eagerly responded. She moaned, rolling her hips in hard, ravenous strokes, her channel squeezing around him until he saw stars, feeling her pulsing climax just as his cock exploded once more.

"Tamlin, I…" She moaned again, sobbing faintly, as she started to ride him once more. He wanted to tell her it was normal, but he was already too far gone himself, groaning under her as he urged her with his hands, quickly tumbling once more into orgasm. Her sheath pulsed, telling him she did, too.

The next time, he rolled her underneath him, taking her in slow, pronounced thrusts, whispering that it was normal, what was happening. He would tell her in the morning what had happened, unable to tell her now, so driven by lust and the need to fill her endlessly with his seed.

 _Mine,_ his mind snarled. The cave briefly shook with his roar as he once more emptied inside her, feeling her achieve the same peak.

"You're  _mine_ , Shula.  _Mine,_ " He rasped, feeling his body once more surge with need.

"Yours," She agreed, giving into everything he wanted.

_Mine._


	5. Chapter 5

A stir of warm skin against her back had Shula slowly waking, her eyes fluttering open as she felt strong hands gently gripping her hips from behind. Tamlin groaned, hard against her side, and she blushed, then without saying anything, gently canted her hips towards him.

He didn't need a second invitation, using that moment to grip her knees, bringing one up slightly from where she laid on her side, to cant his own hips forward and swiftly plunge his cock inside her in one smooth motion. He didn't move, just rested there, and she could hear his ragged pants for a few seconds just before he groaned loudly, the sound pained, like he had been desperately trying to hold himself off and simply found that he couldn't, spurting inside her, his cock thrumming like the skin on a drum, each rapid pulse pouring his release into her.

She felt her insides warm, tightening around him as her arousal bloomed, and he curled against her back, hastily murmuring an apology. She bit her lower lip on a smile and squeezed down around him softly and he groaned again, thrusting gently for a few minutes, then impossibly came yet again, the feel of him filling her making her insides melt further, basking in the warm plume that filled her each time he climaxed.

"Stop... _gripping_  me like that.  _I can't control_ …" He lost use of his vocal chords once more as he pulsed yet again as she gripped and canted her hips back, taking him deep. She sighed in pleasure, but chose to ignore her own need, tugging her hips away once he finished, feeling him slide easily out of her, then turned, staring at him with a sheepish smile.

He looked thoroughly exhausted, rode well and left out in the elements, his hair a wild tangle of blonde curls and half his form smeared with dirt from the cave floor. They had long since cast off the mat underneath them in their upteen turns at devouring one another's carnal appetites throughout the night.

"What  _is_  all this? Or does sex always feel this good with fae? If so, sign me up…" She turned on her back with a faint teasing chuckle, smiling sleepily, staring up at the cave ceiling. She felt Tamlin tense and swiftly roll on top of her, his cock hard even now. His eyes flashed dangerously at her words and she blinked, startled at the intensity she saw there. It bordered on animalistic and she quickly choked down any retort she would have made.

"You're  _mine_ , Shula. No other male will touch you,  _ever._ It's this way because…" He positioned himself between her legs, cupping her sex with two fingers, then pressed down, sliding deeply inside her as his thumb found and stroked her clit, making her moan and close her eyes. "...because you're my mate.  _Open your eyes, Shula."_

She opened them, watching him stare at her, utter rapture and contented male on his face before his gaze flashed possessively. " _You're mine_ …" he panted raggedly, thrusting in and out in exquisitely slow motions, holding her gaze as his eyes softened. "...and I'm yours."

His declaration that she held any kind of power over him shocked her. She remembered the words from last night, plucked out of her head from seemingly nowhere, not understanding what they meant but understanding that if she said it, things would forever be changed. Still, they felt right, so she said them.

Now, seeing the way he looked at her, the way he felt  _in_  her, the way that odd feeling between them  _shone_  from the depths of a place she didn't even understand with elements of her own soul now fused with his, she knew that things had changed somehow between them. She recognized that some part of her should have been frightened, tethered to such a powerful fae, but she wasn't. If anything, she felt stronger. She’d been alone, now...she knew that no matter what else the future held, he would be a constant in her life going forward.

The thought comforted her.

Her eyes lowered, seeing his fangs descend as he moved atop her, his arousal spurring his body, and she licked her lips, feeling her own extend, as she responded to him. The way he looked at her,  _felt inside her_ , made her want to explode into a thousand glittering shards of pure ecstacy. His thumb briskly rubbed against that hardened little nub and she moaned again,  _so close._ Even the beast inside her purred, a distinctively feline noise, and she felt him chuckle, her eyes ripping back to his face. He leaned down and  _growled_  and as his lips found hers, she realized the noise she had imagined she had made actually occurred.

She felt it again, that bond, which had never really gone away, it just eased into her usual senses, making her realize she'd already grown accustomed to it overnight. She tugged on it, gasping against his lips, her fangs clashing with his, feeling his tidal wave of lust crash into her.

_This is what you do to me, Shula._

Her eyes snapped open, widening in shock, hearing his distinctive voice inside her head. He grinned ferally and leaned down, nipping at her throat with his fangs. It spurred her arousal and he felt it in the bond then, growling softly, rubbing her faster still, feeling her body shudder and squeeze, trembling, on the razor edge of release.

_Open yourself, Shula. Let me show you me and me, you. Then...then you will understand what this is._

She didn't even know how to do what he asked, but somehow, with her acceptance, she did. She gasped, her eyes widening, as his mouth claimed hers again and he thrust, his fingers, wet from fondling her sex, stroking her cheek.

It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. She shifted inside his head, inside his body, as he shifted inside hers. He pooled over every thought, stroked every impression of a memory lovingly, cradled everything in his palms with a tenderness that left her speechless, lovingly stroking everything that made her who she was. Shula felt nothing but adoration, lust, and love coat everything he touched. It was enough to send her over the edge, but she doggedly strayed from that precipice, determined to do the same with him. Dimly, she felt tears streak her cheeks as she kissed him, cupping him closer with her hands, while he shuddered and thrust gently atop her, running his hands over her body, murmuring how beautiful she was to him.

Once more, she was dissolving under him inside her, his presence like a swift spring breeze, carrying rain and pollen and the sweet scent of crushed grass. She inhaled sharply, willing it  _deep, deep,_  where it would stay and never leave.

She felt him moving again,  _inside her, atop her,_  as she sought to touch him in ways no one else had or ever would. She saw snippets, not fully understanding most of them, wash over her in a swirling mass of endless emotion. Unlike her, his thoughts were a churning whirlpool cloaked in darkness and despair, but if she concentrated hard enough, she could see light, desperately seeking to get in. So, she showed him hers, allowing it to drive away most of the darkness. The churning didn't cease and she hesitated to touch his memories, asking in that thread between them if she could wait, allow him to tell her. She felt him hesitate, tensing briefly, still buried in her and stroking her softly with his hands, as she asked her question.

_Will you show them to me later? Right now, they will drown me. But if I understand the current, I will feel more comfortable in them. I trust you to teach me how to look...later._

He shuddered atop her, once more resuming his thrusts to kiss her mouth, her eyelids, her cheeks, her hair. Pure, endless astonishment and humility flared back at her. She could taste the saltiness of his own tears, then.

 _You do not wish to see? It is not a pretty sight, but I will not hide the truth. Not from you._ He seemed saddened, almost resigned, as if he knew once she stepped foot in those waters, she would be either too fearful to look again or reject it as too difficult.

She tightened her arms across his shoulders, burying her fingers in his hair, as she wrapped her ankles tightly around his hips, drawing him closer, pinning him there. _No, I wish you to tell me. Then we will look again together._ She stroked his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to hers, as she answered him.

He slowly opened his eyes at the same time she did, brought back to the present. Together, they moved on the cave floor, more than just bodies achieving mutual satisfaction. Together, they spiraled towards something else entirely - and when they held each other and tumbled over the edge together, they came back as something else entirely as well.

_Mates._

* * *

 

"Should I call you husband?" She asked over a mouthful of fish, squatting beside him at the creek bank edge, giving him an amused grin.

Tamlin glanced back at her and huffed in amusement. "Husband, Lord, mate, lover, I care not which. As long as I am at least three of those at all times, I will be a happy male."

She threw a piece of fish at him and he caught it in his mouth, making her laugh. He had explained, in verbal terms, what a mate was. She blinked, finding it a little ridiculous at first, but the serious expression on his face had her quickly quieting the motion. She knew that whatever had formed between them seemed to defy any logic she possessed, finally drilling it down to fate. He had explained that, in a way, that's what their bond was.

"So what if we had never met?" She asked, glancing at him.

He shrugged. "Many don't. It's not realized, not until you meet each other, and usually at first by the male." He shot her a mock scowl. "Yet another rule you broke, feeling it before me."

She preened, tossing a curtain of her hair over her shoulder and batting her lashes with a grin. "Yes, well, I  _am_  Made. We're not exactly your common fae now, are we? Besides, aren't you glad you got to claim all  _this_?" She motioned to her body, striking a provocative pose, enjoying the sound of Tamlin's laughter. She realized until that moment, she hadn't heard it, not a genuine laugh like this one.

"Oh, I am most  _certainly_ grateful. Come here, let me show you," he grinned, springing forward and grabbing her, making her yelp and try and wrestle away, another laugh escaping him as he easily pinned her to the floor. She flopped a few times for good measure, feeling the rumbles of amusement escaping him warm her heart.

"I thought you said you were going to show me this gratefulness of yours?" She teased again, breathless from the way he stared at her. He had paused after he captured her, his own breathing growing labored, as he simply kept her pinned and looked at her. A serious expression crossed his face as his hand reached up, cupping and stroking her jaw.

"Shula," he whispered, speaking her name like a prayer. She swallowed, staring into those eyes, recognizing what she saw but too afraid to say what it was, and he was kissing her.

That bout of lovemaking was even more special than the cave had been. Their bodies spoke what their hearts, minds and voices couldn't say just yet.

* * *

 

They hadn't bothered to dress since the caves, shifting between beast form and humanoid form as it suited them. It took her a few hours to realize, in his own way, Tamlin was teaching her about the forest and about her beastly instincts. She had caught the fish they were eating now, but he had cleaned and roasted them when she looked horrified at the idea of eating them raw in her feline form.

As they sat and ate, they talked. Despite him having poured over every nook and cranny that she was that morning, she helped ease his reservation to talk about himself by recanting her own childhood along with him. He smiled as she did so, and she noticed he found it easier to tell her about his own.

"My mother was a beautiful woman. Blonde with green eyes, like me. She and my father were mated, even though at times I struggled to see how the fates chose to align them as equals. It felt more like opposites, but I suppose, if that is what was used as a measurement, they were most definitely equals. I was the youngest, the last, a surprise to my parents. My father already had two male heirs and had no need for more. He often remarked he was disappointed I wasn't a female. He could have used the alliance leverage."

Shula felt a sting at his words, swifting sucking in a gasp of air, at how nonchalantly he said them. He shrugged, glancing back at her, nibbling on his fish. "It is true. Three sons is an oddity amongst the fae. At any rate, I favored my mother, both in looks and temperament, at least when I was younger. My childhood was therefore mostly pleasant, as I was ignored, except by my mother. She and I grew close until I reached the human equivalency of young adulthood."

Shula listened, feeling his hesitation to keep going, so she focused her attention on the creek below, nibbling on her dinner. "I never met my father. He died before I was born, but the stories I heard from friends of my mother tell me he was a lovely man, if more of a dreamer than a good husband. My mother never talked about him, ever. I think...I think she really loved him and it simply pained her to talk about him to me. I favored my father as well, like you did your mother. My mother had blonde hair, like you, but my father was all red curls and endless imagination. I have her eyes, though. She would tan and freckle in the sun, but my father would not, same as me. He was a painter, she a cook, and they met in a tavern by the capital. I'm pretty sure they got married because of me."

At his confused look, she grinned and wriggled her eyebrows. Tamlin blinked, then laughed, catching on. Eventually, his eyes took on a faraway look and she knew that he was ready to talk more about his childhood.

Tamlin stroked the hollow of her back and she leaned against him, feeling his arm come around her. He sighed, stroking her hair, then she felt him continue. "My father was allied with the King of Hybern, the loyalist that would lead to the war you were dragged in. But this war I'm talking about started before you were born, centuries ago. The one that started the creation of the wall. I would often go with him, on excursions to this King's land, and met a woman called Amarantha. She and I would play in the King's vaults, where he kept many odd things, and it was in that moment, she told me we were going to be mates."

Shula stiffened, feeling a growl want to burst from her chest. He soothed her with strokes against her back. "Relax, Shila." His tone seemed amused and she bristled at the idea of her mate with another, but she calmed as he continued. "It only happens once, that I know of. I never felt anything for her in any event but revulsion. She was, like Hybern, against releasing humans from enslavement and enjoyed tormenting her slaves. Rather than release them, she had them killed, if that gives any indication how the woman was."

She felt suddenly chilled to the bone and he tucked her against his side."She is dead now, do not fret." She calmed and nodded, urging him to continue. "I eventually parted ways with her when my father cast off his alliance to join with the other High Lords to help free the humans. I was too young to fight in the battles that mattered, but I was too quick to pick up the skill to be discarded entirely, either. So I trained in the war camps and befriended a male...another High Lord's son...and he taught me new techniques I had never tested before. He was older, able to fight in the wars, looking exhausted most of the time I encountered him, but...he spared the time and I grew in skill."

A shadow flickered across his face and he looked towards her She had to resist flinching at the cold, desolate look of betrayal, anger and hurt that stared back at her. She could tell this story would have a bitter end. "His father was an enemy of my own. My father didn't like me befriending his son, so he forced my hand. I revealed, unknowingly, where his family was staying. My father and brothers killed them later that night."

She did flinch then, gasping, watching as his expression grew icy while he plowed on. "I should have seen it coming, I admit. I betrayed him, so he betrayed me. Tit for tat. He stole into my house with his  _own_  father, slaughtered my father and brothers - no small act - but what I couldn't forgive was he killed my mother. My beautiful,  _innocent_ , gentle mother, was butchered. He could have taken me with my brothers and father,  _we_ were the ones that had committed the crime,  _not her_. But, I suppose, they both knew that pain would be worse than death. That's the night I gained my powers and...the first night I fully gave into the beast."

Shula swallowed, poised, unable to breathe as she stared at her mate, feeling the aching hollowness pouring from a hole in his soul that he couldn't heal, no matter how hard he tried. She wanted to hold him, seal that pain with parts of her own soul, but she didn't dare interrupt him now.

"I tore into Rhysand's father like chattel. I ripped out his throat, drank his blood until I was drunk on it, tasting the life snuff out, and it was... _wonderful_. He felt it, I could tell, as he was dying, my  _rage_. I kept tearing, shredding, pounding, until nothing was left but a pile of bloodied flesh." He closed his eyes, his lips thinning. "I kept seeing my mother's body, torn in a similar fashion, and just had to do it to him,  _to make him feel what he did to her._  It was only after I was done that I realized Rhysand was in the room."

Shula stilled, feeling sickened for how he must have felt in that moment. Satisfaction for avenging his mother's death, horror at what he had done and gave into, remorse for ruining beyond redemption the fledgling friendship that had been yanked from the ground before the roots could be sprouted, hesitation for what he knew was coming next.

"He ascended the same time I did. We've not been on the best speaking terms ever since." He finally finished, offering her a ghost of a smile. "And I'm afraid it only gets worse from there."

She stared, watching him warily stare back, then launched herself at him, deciding the rest could wait until later - tomorrow - tugging him close. He seemed surprised, then tightly crossed his arms over her back, pressing his head against her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Tamlin." She whispered, pulling back to watch his eyes open, staring at her in pain and adulation.

"I don't deserve you," He choked, shaking his head, tears forming in his eyes. "The story of my past only gets worse from here. Fate is a cruel mistress to tie you to someone like me."

She stared, shocked and saddened at the realization he believed what he spoke. She gripped his cheeks, stroking firmly, making sure she had captured his gaze, when she boldly spoke. "Let  _me_  tell you about  _this male_  I've been fated to become mates with. I was held, against my will, in a stone hole underground. I was  _dying_  a  _slow, painful death_. There were guards there, I  _knew_  they heard my cries, and yet they did  _nothing_. This male, who found a pair of scouts nearby, didn't have to do a damned thing but kill these men for being in his lands -  _but he did so much more._  He found that female, that  _lost and confused and dying female,_ " she was sobbing now, as his eyes began to soften and shine with a soft inner light that managed to chase most of the darkness away as she spoke, "...and  _he saved her life._  He gave her something to live for. He was kind, and gentle...and  _handsome_ …" She added with a grin, pleased to hear him chuckle. "And he made her feel less like a monster and more like him. And she  _admired_  him, the way he could  _transform_ into a magical beast, the way he bent the forest to his whims, the way he seemed to shoulder a burden bigger than any mountain she'd ever seen, yet still found the will to keep going, despite the torment it caused him."

Tamlin's eyes closed, tears leaking from his lids, as he tugged her close. She returned the gesture, whispering in his ear. "That male is  _you_ , Tamlin. You are worthy of this. You are worthy of  _all of it._ "

They spent the next several hours in each other's arms, once again saying with their bodies what they couldn't quite yet say with words.

* * *

 

A few days later, they were heading east, into an area of the forest she didn't recognize. "Where are we going?" She whispered, keeping her voice low, noting the change in Tamlin. He was tense, guarded, alert. Something was amiss and he had pinpointed the source, even if it evaded her still.

He had been training her to track and sense changes in the land, but she was still learning, and whatever he had gleaned had been above her current abilities.

"Ahead, thirty paces beyond that hill. Close your eyes and smell."

She did as he asked and it came to her: the brackish scent of stale sweat, the saltiness of cold iron, the sweet tangy scent of excitement and the coppery hint of blood. She opened her ears then, instead of her nose, tilting her head to the side, towards the source, and heard a string of low mutters, a distant wail of pain, the crack of a whip, the wet tear of flesh.

Her eyes snapped open and she growled softly, meeting Tamlin's sober expression. "They have slaves, or something similar."

He nodded, tugging off his trousers. She stood and undid her dress, silently slipping it to the forest floor. Tamlin grabbed them and rolled them together, tucking them in the hollow of a tree, then motioned her to follow. A few feet away, they transformed, staring at each other in beast form, their muzzles meeting and rubbing against one another.

The bond felt odd at times like this, both more distant and more intense.

_I see you._

_You see me._

Less than words, but so much more. Over the past several days, she'd begun to wonder when she was on two legs instead of four, what it would be like to take him into her like this. His nostrils flared and he huffed, as if he sensed her thinking, then moved along, urging her to follow.

She did, both of them able to manage masking their fae scents and movement so much better in this form than their humanoid ones.

Catching sight of a large tree, Tamlin's beast lept, eerily quiet as it swiftly moved in the forest, devoid of sound as it moved. She did the same, hearing nothing but the feather soft kiss of claws briefly indenting into wood, then she climbed, following her mate.

What Shula saw, even with her altered senses, made her tremble to control the violent bloodlust that coursed through her. Huddles of women, children, and badly beaten men, sat in chains about tents, scouts and warriors bearing the colors of both Hybern and the mortal queen she'd come to despise, lounging around them, enjoying their entertainment of watching others beat, rape or molest the victims.

Tamlin growled softly beside her and she bristled as they watched a young woman being drug out from a tent then thrown down amongst the others. Her skirts were torn and she was sobbing and the men that left the tent were adjusting their pants with disgusting grins. She knew what that meant and it was only Tamlin's flank against her side that kept her from launching herself at the men.

Hours later, when the camp was mostly settled, did they dare leave. They didn't shift until they were almost back in the caves and Shula stumbled, even in beast form, coming down on hands and knees instead of paws, to retch up the fish she'd eaten earlier. It was all too much, reminding her of her time in that stone cell.

Tamlin was by her in an instant, rubbing a comforting hand along her back.

"We have to save them, Tamlin," she whispered, then retched again.

"We will, but only after we study them for a few days. They outnumber us and some of them are fae. They will have powers we have to contend with." His voice was hard, most likely indicating he was reflecting back on what he saw.

" _No,_  not days.  _Tomorrow._  I can't...watch them take another girl...like they did that one. She could have been  _me_ , Tamlin."

He stilled beside her and when she felt her stomach finally settled, she leaned back and wiped her mouth, giving him a firm stare. He nodded then, cupping her cheek and scooping her up in his arms, heading towards the creek. "Tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

"You hear that?"

The bright flare of a match striking a rock, followed by a snort, filled the quiet air as one of the guards frowned next to his partner, peering out into the brisk foggy outskirts of the camp. It was early morning and the camp had yet to truly rise for the day, the night and sleep still edging close to the group, the forest around them quiet and still, not yet fully alive as the sun had barely begun to glare overhead.

The fae male shoved at the human man beside him that let out another faint snort of laughter at his expression, squinting off into the distance, his gaze trained on something he thought he had seen. A glimmer of fur, a flash of golden eyes, a soft snarl that floated like the remnants of a dream across the glen surrounding the camp. It seemed so  _real,_ but now, unable to find it again, had him hesitating. Perhaps it was the fatigue that tugged at his senses, but he was ill at ease from what he thought he saw, watching the human roll his eyes and light a smoke in the still morning air.

The human was annoyed at having been startled from his rolling of a smoke and his expression said as much as he muttered a retort. "What's your problem, Keagan? It's just a reflection of this damned fog. I thought you fae types were made of more sturdy stock than this."

Keagan turned, glowering at his human partner, shoving him away as the large man laughed. " _I'm fucking serious, I saw something. A pair of gold eyes, like a big beast's…"_

Michael made a vaguely frightened face, mocking his fae counterpart with a brief shimmy of fake fear in his armor. As Keagan muttered a string of curses under his mouth and picked up his sword and went to investigate, Michael rolled his eyes and called out after him, his smoke dangling between his lips.

"Oh, come on, I was joking!"

A distinctive "Go fuck yourself!" was heard several paces ahead, where the human sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, taking a few extra puffs on his smoke before tossing it to the ground and grinding it under his boot heel.  _What a waste of a good smoke,_ he thought sourly as he tucked away his supplies, shoving them in his packs before glancing the way Keagan had trekked off to.

He'd never hear the end of it if the fae did end up finding something and he didn't go look or appear like a concerned party member. Things had been tense since the rumors started about Hybern and -

A soft startled yelp, followed by complete silence, made Michael pause with a frown, his head snapping up.

"Keagan?" He called out, grabbing his sword and stepping forward. No matter how hard he looked, nothing could be seen for several feet ahead, the foggy morning blotting out all definition of the treeline except the vague shadowed outline of a dense structure of wood several hundred yards away.

" _Keagan? Where you at?_ " He shouted this time, keeping his sword in a ready stance as he cautiously made his way forward. Annoyance and then fear filled his every step, making Michael's pulse pound loudly in his ears. Either the fae was playing a prank, getting back at his earlier nonchalant attitude, or whatever he'd seen was real and had snagged him.

Glancing sharply around him, he briefly hesitated and thought about calling out an alert. Still, if it chose to be a false alarm, he didn't want to be teased or provoked by the other guards. Times were rough, especially now with little leadership in place, and he knew he would rather fall in line than stand out and cause annoyance with the latest leaders to rise up at the camp. He didn't agree with what the others did with the prisoners, but he didn't necessarily feel obligated to risk his life for a bunch of fae and humans either, so he went along with their little game of 'rape and pillage.' Just as long as he got what he was owed at the end of all this, he didn't care what occurred. He never raped though, so that made him a good guy…. _didn't it?_

As he kept moving, he neither heard nor saw any indication of the other guard. He was beginning to worry. Keagan's whisper tugged at his sense of calm.  _I'm fucking serious, I saw something. A pair of gold eyes, like a big beast's…_

Swallowing, he made a vague religious gesture to anyone that might be listening, gripping his sword a little tighter as he moved forward a few more steps.

"Keagan, you bastard,  _say something_ …" He hissed, stepping closer to the treeline. Again, nothing responded back and Michael swallowed, starting to think with regret that he let his pride get in the way of sounding a real alarm to the others the longer his partner failed to answer. They hadn't encountered any resistance in the Spring lands, having heard the rumors that the court had fallen and the High Lord nearby was no longer in control - or his court, his subjects, and his own wits - and they figured they were safe, tucked away along the border to the human lands southwest of their position, but that didn't mean they weren't on borrowed luck.  _Soon, we need to move on,_  he thought.  _We're risking too much lingering in one place. We need to get those papers to that..._

He took another step forward, caught up in his own inner turmoil, before his senses screamed at him of the wrongness in the air. He stilled, listening, then began to pant raggedly in fear. There was nothing - no echoing chirps of morning birds rising with the sun, no sounds of crickets or other singing insects, filling the air. Everything was utterly  _silent._

A low growl to his side had him whirling, raising his sword, opening his mouth to let out a scream - but it was too late, a large flash of golden fur, long red fangs and wet claws, that tore through him before he realized what had occurred, splashing the ground with his life blood - a ground, that, if he had studied more in detail, he would have realized was already soaked red underneath his feet, moist with the remnants of his partner's silenced screams.

Glassy eyes stared up at the sky as a beast growled softly in satisfaction and feasted on its latest kill before turning its gaze once more towards the camp.

* * *

 

She knew she should have waited for his signal, but they had the girl again. They'd woken early, argued and fought briefly with themselves for a moment on the other side of the camp, then one of the older fae with a nasty scar along his jaw shoved the tent opening aside and stalked across the encampment, heading directly for the young woman she'd seen sobbing yesterday with the torn skirts.

Her clothes were still in shambles but she could see some attempts had been made to fix the damage. She was still asleep, huddled against two elderly individuals - mother and father? Grandparents? Aunt and uncle?

Her sudden jerk at being dragged awake and the screams that followed tore at her. The encampment awoke at the sound of her screams and the two older individuals fought the fae guard but were quickly kicked into bloodied, bruised submission, half-coherent as the girl was dragged across the clearing, kicking and screaming and reaching out with sobbing intensity towards the two still half-bleeding on the ground.

The bond became heavy suddenly, as if he could sense what she was about to do.

_No, Shula, wait for me, like we discussed. Shula...SHULA_ _**NO!** _

She growled, ignoring his demand ricocheting down the bond, unable to stand it any longer, launching herself from the overhead tree she had been asked to wait in. The fae guard snapped to awareness at her sudden appearance, reaching for his weapon, and the girl suddenly sensed her too, making it more difficult for the fae male to grab his sword. She kicked at him, grabbing his sword belt, then fell when the fae backhanded her and went sprawling on the soft dirt underneath.

The girl had done a good job, though. She'd positioned him just right, and when Shula went sailing over her, jaws wide and claws extended, she didn't miss the girl's knowing smirk and open stare as she ripped the fae limb from limb, feasting on his screams.

* * *

 

The camp went eerily quiet as soon as the fae guard's screams stopped. Shula's senses were on high alert and her ears tracked the slowly fading thuds of running guards, followed by a roar in the distance. She didn't feel him in the bond then, figuring he was either angry or satisfied she'd handled herself. She knew they'd need to discuss it later, but for now, the fae couldn't harm her again and she felt vindicated for revealing herself and going against Tamlin's command.

The faint rustle of dirt moving under the rapid scramble of feet and hands had her turning, still slightly leaning over the torn remnants of the fae guard.

The girl stared at her, eyes bright with perverse satisfied revenge at her tormentor's end but also with a sharp-eyed wariness of Shula's beast. She used that moment to shift, grabbing the guard's torn cloak and casting it over her body, before rising to her feet.

"You've nothing to fear.." She started, watching the wariness of the girl and the others that hurried to her side, their chains clinking softly together in the still air, be replaced with relief and joy - only for it to immediately flare to fear, focused on something over her shoulder.

"Beast bitch!" Shula heard from behind her, making her crouch and whirl, as two fae guards sneered in her direction, perhaps twenty feet away, two lit arrows poised at her chest. The ends flared orange, burning brightly with a substance she couldn't make out but knowing it was lethal by the acrid smell it left wafting in the air.

They raised their weapons, drawing back the strings, when Shula heard Tamlin's beast roar in fury in the distance, drawing closer.

_SHULA! SHULA RUN!_

Still, her eyes watched, as if in slow motion, as their fingers slowly began to loosen their grip. She knew, instinctively, that he wouldn't make it back in time and she had seconds to think. Something inside her ignited and she bared her teeth in challenge, knowing what she must look like, still splattered with the bloody remnants of the dead guard at her feet, and she shot both hands out, feeling something ripple and explode from her fingers.

Instantly, the guards were engulfed, flames bursting from the tips of those deadly arrows, as if by her command, and set the two fae afire. Their screams filled the air and their fingers slipped, but she was already in motion, jumping up and turning, barreling through people as they began their rapid volley towards her and the others, hurrying to remove the others from harm's way.

One stung her shoulder, agony flaring up against the left side of her back, and she stumbled.

_SHULA!_

Pure fury and fear echoed back at her through the bond and she sent him back a reassurance, despite the pain. The fear subdued but the fury outpaced it then and she knew he wouldn't rest until every single guard here was dead.

Screams from those around her rose up as she fell but she saw Tamlin's beast come soaring past her, a rush of air in his wake, and the arrows shot upwards and embedded in a tree. He barreled past the two fae, noting they were mostly dead from the flames she had shot up, and used his considerable powers to feed the flames sprouting up along the forest floor, quickly engulfing the camp.

The others huddled around her, two people pressing fabric against her wound, making her moan but grind out a thanks between clenched teeth. A few whimpers and shrieks from children and women had her focusing, watching the flames creep closer. She heard Tamlin's roar in the distance and through the bond.

_Shula? Are you alright? How bad is it? The fire...the fire Shula. Use your power and stop the fire. I'm coming._

Shula rolled on her side, forcing herself to sit up, hissing through her teeth at the sharp pull in her back. She closed her eyes, raising her hands, and did as he asked through the bond, using her considerable magic to hold off the flames.

The screams and shrieks of the others raised, then quieted, replaced with a soft murmur of hope amongst them as they huddled closer, pressing hands and wrists and arms against her.

"She saved us. The fae woman and the High Lord saved us…"

She heard them whisper, their voices trembling, afraid to hope and yet unable to stop the tremors of joy that began to coat their soft undertones. Shula trembled at the sound of their gratitude, still coated in the blood of that fallen fae, the agony in her shoulder only slowly getting worse, when she felt Tamlin's approach by the shift in the fire. Her magic felt the hiss of air vacating the area, the remnants of the fire dying and fading to mere smoke and charred remains, and she sagged in relief as she heard the soft growl that came from him.

Suddenly, something didn't quite seem right. She blinked, feeling a warm wrongness bloom over her skin. She struggled to breathe and felt the immediate prickling along her skin as Tamlin's terror bloomed, the sound of muscle and bone shifting grotesquely, causing a few gasps and stumbling sounds from behind her.

_Shula? SHULA! Shula, look at me dearest. Stay with me, Shula._ _**SHULA!** _

She didn't hear the rest, tumbling into unconsciousness as a pair of strong arms caught her.

* * *

 

A roar ripped from him, silencing the camp around him, as Tamlin's hands trembled from where they held her crushed to him, running a hand over her hair as he pulled back and looked over her face. He could already tell the signs and it had his gut seizing in fear.

_Bloodbane._

He struggled to maintain control of his form as he snarled, glancing back at the two dead guards that had injured his mate. If the others weren't dead, he'd have killed him immediately. The air grew heavy, crackling faintly as a fierce wind briefly whipped up, then dampened, remembering the past few times in his life when he'd lost control, the action having cost him everything. A few hushed cries and screams around him drew his focus back to the woman in his arms and the victims she'd been so desperate to help the day before.

The girl from last night slowly crawled forward and he growled at her in warning, coveting Shula close to his chest, taking a few paces back, still half-animal at seeing her in pain and unconscious.  _Mine, she's mine, she's hurt, don't touch her._

"I can help her," the girl murmured, glancing back hastily at the others who began to nod their heads and point at her. "I was a healer in my village and I healed a lot here, when they'd let me. There's a creek nearby. I need a root that grows there. May I..go get it?"

Tamlin looked about at the others, nodding as he cradled her close. He didn't dare move, afraid to let her go, in case she'd never wake or slip out of his fingers. Flashes of his time Under the Mountain had him crashing to his knees, immobile, unable to voice an ascent at what the girl said.

The rest of the victims went to work, grabbing keys from the dead guards and quickly unshackling themselves. The girl was gone, sprinting across the clearing, and he closed his eyes, gripping that slackening bond between them like a lifeline.

_Cauldron knows I don't deserve her, but...if anyone is listening..._ _**please spare her.** _ _Not for me, but for_ _**her.** _ _She is strong, and kind, and resilient and everything this court needs. Let her take my place, so that I may take hers._ _**Please spare her.** _

* * *

 

She was weak and hot to the touch, groaning and shrugging off the mountains of fabric drowning her in the dark. She sat up, her skin itchy and moist, and blinked at the strange surroundings she found herself in.

Several of the victims mulled around a fire nearby, cooking what appeared to be the carcass of a deer. A few noticed her awake and tugged on the sleeves of a girl, who turned and looked over at her, relief on her face.

Shula studied that face and blinked, recognizing her. It was the same girl she'd saved earlier. The girl stood quickly and hurried over, kneeling down beside Shula and pouring the steaming contents of a clay urn into a cup, gently guiding Shula's hands towards it while she tried to get a bearing on where they were, not recognizing the woods. It was dark now, the stars out and the sun long gone, and she was cushioned under mountains of soft fabric and fur.

"Where…?" She'd started to say, but the girl at her side interrupted her.

"Drink this, Lady. It will help." The girl's tone drew Shula's gaze back towards her and she stared, seeing the girl staring at her in concern and gratitude. She nodded, glancing down at the drink, then drank the contents.

She gagged against the bitter taste, but forced it down, and then felt it -  _ **Shula**_ _…._

It was whispered between them, from what felt like a far distance, with surprise and reverence, and a faded shadow of despair and love. She kept sipping the drink, looking about urgently for any trace of him.

_Where are you?_

_Close. Hunting. I am coming back to you right now. I've...missed your voice inside my head._

She bit back a grin as she felt the others slowly gather around her. She looked down, realizing she was wearing her dress from before, then slowly sat up and drained the contents of her cup as the bond once more grew slack when she felt and tasted the loamy scent of soil and the fresh cut scent of crushed leaves from Tamlin. He was running, in beast form, and his thoughts were simple and focused, wanting to find her, wanting to -

"You're his mate, aren't you? You're mated to that monster."

Shula blinked, dragged back once more to the group surrounding her, and she focused on the old human man who said that, staring at the gnarled clenched fists of the grey-haired mortal.

"Yes," She stated simply, frowning at his term of 'monster.' The human spat at her feet, his eyes narrowing at her. She found herself speechless, as she stared at the contempt in his eyes.

"Others here are thankful for your rescue, but  _I_ remember. I remember when that High Lord of yours let his beast rule his heart, his  _court,_   _his damned common fucking sense_ , and watched people and villages suffer and burn when he allied with that King across the sea. I remember when he let those mongrels in, when he let his last Lady Love suffer under his abuse, and…"

"What's your name?" She asked sharply, interrupting his tirade. The mortal blinked, stilling, his eyes going wide. She admired the way he stood his ground, though, even under the flicker of fear that flashed across his face.

"Kristoph. And yours...Lady of the Spring Court?" He asked hesitantly after giving his name, the others glancing sharply between the two, watching the conversation play out. Something in the way they stared told Shula this was a pivotal moment, and her thoughts briefly flickered back to what Tamlin had told her the morning after they bonded, when she'd waited to glimpse into his tormented past.

_It is not a pretty sight, but I will not hide the truth. Not from you._

"Shula. It's Shula. And I am no Lady. I was like you...until a few weeks ago." She replied, gathering herself and sitting up at full height, feeling more and more herself, determined to defend Tamlin, despite whatever past he had to face with these people and these broken lands. She saw underneath his flaws, to the male he so desperately wanted to be but was afraid to show anyone, in case they crushed that fragile confidence that grew with each passing day as he tried to right the wrongs of his past.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Another voice asked nearby, having her turn towards the sound. It was the voice of a young fae male, looking at her warily but also with an odd fascination. "You're...you're like  _her_  then? Tamlin's last Lady Love? Like Feyre Archeron?"

The blank look on her face had a few fae glancing curiously at one another and she cleared her throat, grabbing their attention once more.

"I'm not sure who that is, but I suppose I am, if she was human once like me. I'm from the mortal lands. My queen used me as a pawn, just like you, to see to her own needs. She wanted to be like you," She nodded at the fae male, her lips thinning, unable to suppress a shudder. "But she didn't trust the King across the sea, and I was thrown in that thing in her place." She vaguely gestured at herself and shrugged. "And this is the result. If that's what happened to his previous...lady...then yes. I am like her."

She didn't think too long and hard at the sudden jealousy that burned through her at the idea of Tamlin with another woman, loving her, fucking her, whispering words to her as he -

A low murmur sprung up between them and she focused on the group, looking back at the old mortal man to address his earlier statement about Tamlin being a monster. "He found me, in a faebane-laced cell, half-starved and dehydrated. If he was a  _true_   _monster,_  like you claim he is he'd have left me there and I would have died a slow, painful death. Like many of you would have, most likely, if he'd done nothing today. Does that sound like the makings of a monster to you?"

The old man stared, his face curling into a savage frown, but she continued over the rising murmurs. "I don't know his past, or yours, I only know what I've seen since he found me, and I see a male doing his best to repair, to seek forgiveness for his past mistakes, and help his lands. He's been out here,  _alone_ , fighting off the last forces of Hybern and my mortal queen's men, in an attempt most likely to rebuild. He knows what he did to you...to  _all_  of you...and he asks for nothing while he hunts them, except perhaps forgiveness."

The old man stilled, as did the others, but she continued, not noticing the silence around the camp.

"Haven't any of you ever made a mistake? Something you regretted the moment you did it? All he is asking is for a chance to fix what he did.  _ **That male**_ _-_ _ **that male**_ _is my mate._  And I will stand beside him and challenge  _anyone_  who tries to ruin that."

A soft purr of approval had her turning sharply, seeing Tamlin standing behind her, another deer carcass cast over his shoulders, his trousers in place, and a bright flash of humility and love glittering deeply in his eyes as he looked at her.

Shrugging the deer off his shoulder, he smiled at her before looking at the others with a sober expression.

"Help me," he finally murmured, catching the eye of the old man as he shrugged a shoulder, looking openly broken in that moment. Her heart tugged fiercely in her chest as she stared at him, watching him look over the crowd with a resigned expression, not expecting them to listen to his plea.

The old man slowly stepped forward, staring over Tamlin's form, before subtly nodding. Tamlin's entire body relaxed, his shoulders slumping slightly, as the old man turned away and moved over to her. He looked at her, something in his eyes briefly unnerving her, and he suddenly smiled.

"You're wrong, you know. You've every bit the Lady we hoped he'd have one day."

She swallowed, her throat suddenly thick with emotion, watching the old man go back to the fire and settle into place, the bustle and noise of the camp growing as the others set to work and began to work on the dinner Tamlin brought.

Thinking of him, she turned, seeing him staring at her, his eyes glowing with some emotion she couldn't place. She walked towards him as he started towards her, and when they were mere inches apart, she simply leaned against his chest and felt his arms tug around her, crushing her against him. While the others worked, he lifted her in his arms, moving away from the camp and into the dark forest beyond.

* * *

 

He trembled so violently, he was afraid he'd drop her, moving quietly along the forest floor, desperate to get her alone and away from the others before he lost his composure. The way she'd faced both fae and mortal accusations alike and had stood by him, despite the glaringly obvious darkness of his past had him humbled beyond words.

_She's_ _**mine** _ _...I can't believe she's_ _**mine** _ _. She's…_

Finally, at a far enough distance away from the camp, in the shelter of a glen with soft high grass, he crashed to his knees, turning her in his grip, seeing her frown of concern under the light of the pale moon, reaching up and stroking her fingers across his face as he raised a shaking hand to cup her cheek.

"Shula," he croaked, his voice breaking, as he looked over her face and body. She was wholly recovered and he let out a shuddering breath through his nose, pressing his forehead against hers as he chanted her name like a prayer, feeling a soft cry of concern escape from her.

"What's wrong? Tamlin, you're trembling, are you…" She started to ask, but he drowned out her concerned whisper as he hungrily found her mouth, his gratitude and relief at finding her intact back at the camp - healed and beautifully  _his_  - blooming rapidly into something else entirely. A soft snarl tore from his mouth as he pulled her back against him, tugging her knees open and shoving her skirts up, stumbling to find the fastenings of his trousers.

" _I need you_ ," he hoarsely murmured, shaking in his efforts to free himself and not savagely shred apart his trousers, hoping she wouldn't pull away in confusion, but she nodded, curling her arms gently around his shoulders in soft understanding as he tugged and jerked free from the confinements of his clothes, gripping her tightly and quickly pressing upwards, poised and ready, eagerly seeking her warmth, wanting to bathe himself in it.

He groaned sharply, his grip flexing against the soft flesh of her hips, as he breached her, her sleek warm channel comforting him as he ground her hips against his once inside, thrusting in small circles. Stars exploded behind his eyes as tremors shook his frame at the perfect feel of her, his movements becoming more ravenous and savage as he panted, seeking her soft touches, the brush of her hair against his skin, the smell of their mingled scent filling his nostrils.

Without warning, it hit him, rolling through him so violently he went limp underneath her, holding her in place as he sank clumsily to the soft grass underneath, his cock pulsing in spontaneous ecstasy, spurting endlessly inside her. He heard her soft moan, the slow rolling movement of her hips as she moved atop him once he settled in the grass, and she somehow managed to drag out his own climax with her movements when he suddenly felt the soft tugging grips of her own climax. He groaned, finding that hard little nub of flesh, and rubbed briskly, feeling her pulsing grow deeper, more intense, along with her cries. He didn't stop, not until she managed to pull another climax out of him, making him roar and shatter the quiet air around them with the sounds of his own oblivion.

* * *

 

"I think I love you," she whispered once they both caught her breath. He forced himself not to crush her against him as she lowered her head against his shoulder, remaining joined with him.

He was _terrified_  - utterly afraid to say the words back, no matter how much he felt them. The last time he'd spoken those words, his world crumbled. If it happened again,  _with her_ , he'd never recover.

She seemed to sense his traitorous thoughts as she gently brushed his hair away from his face, pulling back and looking at him with soft understanding in her beautiful eyes. He frowned, opening his mouth to say them back, when she laid a hand over his mouth.

"I know," she murmured, tracing a hand against his chest. "When you're ready. I offer my love freely and without condition. When you're ready, Tamlin, I'll be here."

He wanted to say them but couldn't make himself.  _If I say the words, she'll disappear. I can't lose her - not_ _ **her**_ _, not Shula, not the one woman who brought be back from destruction with gentle, kind words. Cauldron help me, she means everything to me._

Instead, he spent the next several hours showing her - again - with his body, what he couldn't say with words.

_I love you. Let me worship you in the only way I can right now._

And in typical fashion of this marvelous mate the cauldron had blessed him with, she accepted, taking everything he could offer and not demanding more than he was ready yet to give.

Only when dawn began to crest the sky did they return to the camp, hand in hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a small warning, there's a reunion here of sorts and it's heated and emotional. I write in third person limited, so anything you read is obviously biased towards the narrator - just like the books are. Enjoy!

Shula woke when a nest of birds above the small dip in the grassy meadow they slept in began to sing softly in chorus, the chicks calling to the mother to feed them. She felt Tamlin slowly shift to alertness beside her, sensing her movement, his back to her front where she spooned up against him for warmth. The rest of the camp, settled in small groups all about the meadow - some a mere few feet away from them - slept on. The air was crisp and slightly misty and the sky above was still wreathed in darkness and the forest beyond was utterly silent - the dawn of the new day hadn't quite risen, but the eeriness of the witching hour had long past. To her, it was like the entire world belonged to only them in that moment and she found herself wishing she could stretch it out to infinity. It made her smile and snuggle closer to Tamlin.

Her hands reached out, gently tracing his spine, and he purred, rolling over slowly and facing her. She smiled softly as he stared back, one of his hands reaching up and tracing the contours of her face. Eventually, he leaned forward, pulling her against him, spending several minutes showering her face with the soft nuzzling trail of his lips along her brows, cheekbones, and jaw - like he was trying to memorize her face by touch. He purred again and she grinned, enjoying the display. He caught the amused look on her face and slowly smiled, tracing her lips with a finger, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"You're just one big lazy cat in the morning," she whispered, her eyes trailing over him, enjoying the warmth he radiated, making him chuckle softly at her teasing assessment of his early morning attitude.

"This is more socially acceptable, given what I'd  _really_  like to be doing," he murmured, nipping at her ear and rolling atop her, pinning her beneath him. She blushed when he rocked his hips against her, nudging his erection at her.

"We need to hunt...to feed the others," she gently admonished, despite her body's protest against stopping what he teased at. He kept kissing the shell of her ear, ignoring her soft whispered demands, going as far as to lightly drag a hand across her torso to cup her breast, his fingers teasing the nipple to a tight beaded peak beneath her dress. Glancing about, seeing no one awake, he grinned devilishly at her and tugged the strap above that breast loose then lowered his mouth once her stiff nipple was exposed, using his teeth and tongue to drag out a soft moan from her. It felt exquisite and her back arched before she could stop her response and he growled softly.

She didn't want him to stop but the idea of one of the camp members stumbling upon them made her shove gently at his chest. He growled again, nibbling harder, but she eventually wriggled enough beneath him to make him relent in his teasing and roll to a stand after tucking her breast back inside her dress, dragging her with him gently by the wrists towards the tree line in the distance.

"Cruel, demanding female," he taunted softly, tugging her into the woods. She kept her gaze trained on the tree line, not daring to stare at the noticeable erection straining his pants that caught her eye.

"Brainless, rutting male," she whispered back, sticking out her tongue, stalking past him once he dropped her wrists. The soft raspy sound of his laughter had her insides turning molten.

They made it quietly past the others and once they were well past the tree line, she turned to ask Tamlin where he thought they should start hunting for food. He took the opportunity to shove her up against a tree before a word escaped her lips and hike her skirts up - thrusting into her once he freed himself - driving them with rapid movements to such wild heights that they both had to quiet each other's violent peaks with hasty ravenous kisses.

Afterwards, they spent the next hour skirting the nearby creeks and rivers for schools of fish and harvesting nearby fruit bushes. Tamlin was kind and patient, showing her how to test them for their ripeness and pick the fruit and before too long, they were ready to return. Side by side, they returned with enough supplies to feed the entire camp. Fish, blueberries, strawberries, apricots, scallions and mustard greens filled Shula's skirts and she watched Tamlin set the fire before heading back into the woods for makeshift cooking utensils.

While she waited for him to return, she looked about the sleeping camp and set to work, falling into that familiar pattern that used to be such a constant in her life back home as a cook's assistant. She heard a few shifts in the grass and smiled, busying herself with working, knowing a few of the camp occupants had started to rouse with the fire.

Eventually, Tamlin returned, bearing several branches and waxy frond-like leaves to cook in. He showed her a few ways to roll the fish with the scallions and mustard greens and bake them over the fire on the sticks and she nodded, picking up on it easily enough. Together, they set about cleaning and rolling the fish and placing them in the fire. Before long, the scent of cooking meat and vegetables carried on the breeze, waking others with the tempting smell.

As they worked, Shula paused from time to time to smile at those that slowly began to gather around the fire, staring curiously at them both as they worked. A few stared at the rolls of leaves, not them, their faces so twisted with hunger that her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She made sure those were the first to get their cooked meals and berries.

Eventually, everyone was awake, gathered in tight waves around the fire, meal in hand, eating ravenously after a few brave souls went first, proving to the others that the food was real. She swallowed as she watched some of them consume their meals so fast, she wanted to cry. These people had been starved, beaten, some even raped. Her eyes moved about the camp as she tugged Tamlin away and sat with him at the edge of the encampment, realizing suddenly at the mixture of fae and human faces alike. They looked so eerily similar in that moment, in their shared pain and suffering.

Suddenly, it didn't matter who was who - they were all one victimized people. She sighed, shaking her head, thinking to herself -  _How did things go so wrong yet again? Did the wall teach us nothing? The treaty - nothing? Was the last war not bloody enough?_

She heard Tamlin shift beside her.  _What's wrong?_ She felt him whisper along their bond, feeling her sadness.

She looked back at him with a sad smile, tipping her head briefly at the group.  _Human and fae alike have fought for so long because of racial hatred but fear and desperation wear the same face. Look at them, Tamlin. Tell me there's a difference, a real difference, between them?_

She glanced back at the group and together they watched them eat. She felt his shift in emotions as he stared, the sensation making her sad as she threaded her fingers with his.  _We have to help them, show them a better path, lead by example. They might not take what we offer...but we have to_ _ **try**_ _. What about your home? If you're a High Lord, surely you have a place they can stay? Isn't this why you're out here? To help these people and drive the others from your lands?_

She felt Tamlin's eyes shift towards her once more and she felt his bloom of fear - fear of what? Fear of rejection, fear of repeating his past mistakes, fear of not being taken seriously? She wasn't sure, but she wanted him to know that she believed in him. She squeezed his hand and met his resigned expression, reaching up and stroking his jaw.

 _You can be anything you want to be, Tamlin, regardless of your past. People can change._ She felt his eyes shift towards the gathering once more but she leaned forward, snagging his gaze one last time, giving him a firm stare.  _I believe in you and I_ _ **love**_ _you. Together - we'll do it_ _ **together**_ _._

She felt the fear begin to slowly dissipate and she smiled as his eyes turned soft. Slowly, he nodded his head.  _Together._

While they stared at one another, they heard several soft whispers amongst camp but hung back, allowing the others to choose when they were ready to approach them.

As the whispering got bolder, louder, the camp members drawing closer once their hunger was satisfied, Tamlin's lips twitched with amusement.  _Should we address them?_ He must have felt her surprise at him - a High Lord - asking for her opinion and he tipped his head to the side.  _You've done a pretty good job so far, Shula. Tell me your thoughts._

Shula blushed and glanced over the crowd. Most of the group still had wariness in their eyes, looking ready to bolt at the slightest provocation, despite their apparent good will. She caught Tamlin's eye and kept her expression subtle as she smiled.  _I don't think so. I have a feeling the same old man will come forward as before but not until he's made sure his people are taken care of. They're fearful of you - of us. The Spring Court, from what I've gathered, isn't associated with good memories._

She saw Tamlin tense briefly and couldn't resist soothing that irritated wound beneath his skin, stroking his jaw and holding his gaze as she conversed with him internally, feeling the camp growing bolder, almost ready to engage with them.  _You made mistakes...but so does everyone, Tamlin. Yours are just more noticeable because you're on a pedestal. You're High Lord - their leader. They need to know they can trust you. Right now, the best way to earn that trust back is to give them undeniable proof they can trust you but ask for nothing in return. Loyalty pledged because they_ _ **want**_ _to give it is much more powerful than loyalty pledged because they_ _ **have**_ _to give it._

Tamlin's eyes grew heated and she blushed again, feeling his arousal through the bond.  _Cauldron, you're magnificent. I am a lucky male indeed._

 _Stop it,_  she swatted at his hand, making him chuckle. Just as she was about to tease him further, she heard the soft snap of a twig and the subtle swoosh of crushed grass, making them both glance over. As she predicted, the same old man from before returned - this time with something in his arms.

He stopped a few feet away, staring between the two of them for several long seconds. His gaze was assertive, probing, and merciless. Shula and Tamlin, for their part, didn't move a single muscle while the older man inspected them. Eventually, something internal decision seemed to be made and he stretched out his hands, staring briefly at Tamlin as he handed them - to Shula.

She blinked, her eyebrows raising, as she looked between the battle of wills going on between Tamlin and the older man, but she took the proffered items. Glancing at them curiously, she looked up and saw the old man's unflinching stare suddenly on her. She flinched and he smiled, the action softening his features. She tentatively smiled back as she felt Tamlin press a hand to the small of her back.

"Thank you, Lady...and...High Lord," The man said, casting Tamlin a brief side glance, before looking back at her and then turning, gesturing to the group. "...for feeding us. It's been a long time since we've had such a meal - or an act of kindness such as that."

"Of course," she replied back, feeling the others of the group draw closer. Shula kept her eyes on the older man and Tamlin kept quiet.

"You'll forgive me, Lord Tamlin, if we are not quite...ready...to forgive your past transgressions. We were trapped by humans and allies of Hybern and you are the source of our suffering. They would not have been here if it weren't for  _you_. For your mate, however, we will consider following you. Some have yet to make up their minds but for those that have..." The old man looked at her and smiled, bowing his head. "We will stay...for  _you_."

She swallowed, moved by his words, feeling her eyes shine with unshed tears. He must have sensed them because he smiled again, then gestured at what she held in her hands. "Those are missive logs and decryption cubes I procured from the camp before we left. Use them wisely.  _Help us, please._ "

He bowed, then turned and settled in with the crowd. The crowd stared at them, seemingly needing affirmation of what to do, but Shula was at a total loss for words, staring at the books in her lap. Her fingers trembled as they traced the spines of the leather-bound journals, harsh memories resurfacing, making her wonder if she was in them.  _Am I even mentioned or am I just another number? Who else is suffering? What do I do?_

Tamlin seemed to sense her struggle and sat up, placing a hand gently on her shoulder as he spoke. "My mate is an exceptional female. She has been since I found her, as a victim - not unlike yourselves, from the very men I allowed into the Spring Court. For that….I will  _never_ be able to make up for what I did.  _My own mate_  was a victim from the forces I allied with. Fate is a cruel mistress to remind me so deeply of my past transgressions," he whispered, his voice sounding choked with pain.

She looked up, frowning, but he smiled at her briefly, stroking her cheek, before looking back at the others, a saddened expression on his face. The crowd murmured among themselves at his words but quieted when Tamlin spoke once more. "I betrayed you as your Lord should never do. I will live with that mark on my soul the rest of my life. I ask for nothing from you -  _how could I,_ when I've done you so  _horribly_  wrong?"

He hesitated and Shula stayed quiet, knowing this was his moment to appeal to the group. "If you need shelter, I offer my estate. It is not...what it once was...as it's suffered since the fall of my house, but it is yours should you need it - for however long you need it."

He stood and pointed over the hill to the left. "It's a few days walk in that direction, should you choose to accompany me and my mate back to the estate grounds, where we will be working to restore it to a proper shelter. I've wandered these forests for...weeks...before finding you and my mate. I fear there's not much left in my lands past what we have gathered here. I think our best efforts are to focus on building a sanctuary, should others head there. The estate is well known and it needs tending, should anyone else choose to seek it out for asylum. If you would like to join me, we will be leaving at midday. If not, you may head south," Tamlin gestured in the appropriate direction, but frowned. "...and return to the human lands. I will warn you, war has visited there. It is not...like it once was. You may find your homes destroyed, your people gone. If you choose to come back, you will be welcomed and nothing shall be expected from you."

The murmurs in the crowd had long since stopped as Tamlin talked and Shula smiled as she looked over each of their faces. She paused, holding her breath to stifle a sob, as she suddenly saw it - barely there, needing nurture and tender loving patience, but it was there.

_Hope._

She looked back at Tamlin and saw the brightness in his eyes. She smiled, knowing he saw it too, but what he didn't see was that she could sense it in his  _own_  eyes, and it made him beautiful.

* * *

 

She groaned, sinking into the cool water of the creek she had found several hundred yards away from the campsite, in the small alcove of foothills they'd settled in for the night. They had made steady progress towards the Spring Court estate and she'd been surprised at the amount of human and fae alike that had chosen to stay, despite a few approaching her and wishing her luck, but leaving to see if any family had survived the war below the wall or in the far corners of the court lands. She understood their fears and made sure that Tamlin and her supplied them with plenty of provisions before they departed, wishing them safe travels. She reminded them that they always had a place to return to at the Spring Court Estate, should they need it.

Now, she was tired and hot and slightly sweaty, having taxed her newfound power of fire and beast summoning during the long hours of the morning and night to feed the large group. As the water flowed around her, she closed her eyes and sighed, imagining nothing felt more wonderful to her in that moment than the feel of the creek's water on her tired muscles. She sighed again, stifling a groan, and dipped her head under the creek's surface, letting the soothing waters soak her hair.

Tamlin still hunted for the group, ordering her to the creek an hour earlier, when her body began to give out. She smiled, looking around the area, hoping he would join her soon, missing the company. She stilled in the creek, giving a thought to all that she had seen and witnessed of his past and who he was now, today, to her.

She sensed his dark past, had heard enough muttered whispers of the group, to sense what all his bad decisions had centered around. She frowned, thinking of the anonymous past female in his life, wondering why kind of woman she was. He had clearly loved her deeply and for the smallest moment, she felt panic that he had yet to speak  _those words_  to her when he'd all but torn his court apart for this other female.

Almost as quickly, she rejected the small swell of unease, knowing deep down she'd never want him to love her in that way. Clearly, there was more to the story than she realized, but it didn't change how she felt about him. Whatever had occurred had scarred him so deeply, he had made sure to make huge efforts to steer as far away from actions resembling those now. She sighed, wringing the water from her hair, as she slowly moved from the creek and began to wash her clothes.

_I will not push him. Only when he's ready. When he's ready to talk about it, I will listen. His past made him into who he is today - the man you love. Everything serves a purpose in this life, even the hard lessons._

Standing, wringing the water from her dress and slipping the wet cloth over her form, she shivered and began to move back towards the camp but paused as the air suddenly crackled and a breeze brushed her temple, making her turn warily.

There, near the creek's edge where she had stood not seconds before, was a male and female high fae. The male seemed to radiate glittering darkness, resembling some dark Adonis - and the female, his opposite in nearly every way except perhaps her presence, stood beside him in light-haired, golden glory. They wore matching crowns of silver and sapphire and instantly, she knew she was in the presence of someone important and powerful. Still, she didn't move as they inspected her, not ready to give away any indication of how little she knew about the fae realm - so she let them be curious by her quiet stare. Shula stiffened, feeling something softly touch her mind, and she recoiled, growling and backing up. The woman smiled faintly, stepping forward, the dress of glittering sapphires she wore moving fluidly against her body with each step, something in her eyes telling her to _trust her._

Shula bristled - that word felt wrong,  _placed_. She glared and the sensation eased but the kindness in their eyes didn't change, only shifted, perhaps carrying an element of respect and surprise amongst the kindness.

"Hello," The female murmured, holding out her hands, palms up, towards her. It was meant to be a gesture of kindness, of calm open acceptance, but Shula was instantly on edge, hastily backing up a few steps and hissing faintly, golden eyes flashing and fangs extending. They'd already planted something inside her mind, what else were they capable of?  _Trust you? Not fucking likely._

A low rumbling power leached from the male beside her when she made the display of hostile wariness and she shifted her gaze to him, feeling his subtle warning in the glowing velvet color of his eyes. Midnight hair shifted over his eyes as he tipped his head to the side and she stiffened again at the subtle stroke of claws against her mind.

She narrowed her own, thrusting her chin up, staring between the two of them. " _Who the fuck are you?_ " She glared at the male, crossing her arms over her chest. " _Get the hell out of my head, jackass._  Are all high fae as rude as you? If so, I'll pass on meeting any others."

They exchanged an amused glance but the different sensations immediately cased, making her relax ever so slightly. Still wary, she stared as they inspected her, feeling the trail of their dual gazes before both stilled, tipping their heads to the side and then suddenly looking sharply back at her face. The male's eyes glowed briefly as the woman's widened slightly in surprise. It was her that managed to speak, the male's expression hard to read. "You're….his mate?"

"I don't understand, who are y - " She frowned, backing up a few more steps, and before she could respond, she heard the shattering roar of Tamlin's beast from behind her. She stayed in place, her gaze fixed on the two in front of her, feeling darkness suddenly suffuse around them as he bounded up, shifting behind her, his hands resting heavily on her shoulders as he growled at the two mysterious fae in front of them.

" _Why are you here?_ " He growled, his tone so savage she would have gasped if she wasn't working actively on keeping every emotion schooled out of her face. She went immediately still, tentatively reaching out between them to stroke a phantom hand along that bond, shocked to feel nothing but resentment, hurt, and a slow aching betrayal as he addressed them. Her eyes shifted and she briefly wondered, looking between the two, if the female was the one Tamlin had been with before.

As she watched the way the two in front of her stared at one another, seemingly communicating like she and Tamlin often did, realization hit her.  _Oh, Tamlin..._ His betrayal and pain at seeing them, especially around her, suddenly made sense.  _You loved her but she left you - for him, her mate. How that must have hurt._

" _Well?_ " Tamlin's icy bark once more drew Shula and the others to back to the present. The male's eyes narrowed and once again - everything went back, surrounded by stars - but the female seemed to snap her head back at the male and it dissipated and she stepped forward, staring at Tamlin with a gentle but firm look in her eyes.

"Good evening, Tamlin. We're sorry to arrive unannounced, it's just the estate was abandoned and there's another High Court meeting soon, we were hoping you could attend. We were concerned when we couldn't find you immediately and have been looking for you." She hesitated, glancing towards Shula with a soft smile. "Congratulations on finding your mate. I...hope you're happy. Both of you."

"When and where?" Tamlin replied tersely, brushing past the female's comment of her. Shula simply watched, saying nothing, as the female frowned, glancing back at Tamlin, before looking over at the male at her side.

"A week," he stated, as he looked between Tamlin and her, his eyes trailing over their forms, from what they could see of Tamlin who stood behind her. "Why are you in such a...state? Are things truly so bad now?"

"Ask your mate, Rhysand," Tamlin spat, growling. "Feyre made sure to leave it in tatters. Is it any surprise it's a husk of what it once was?"

Shula stiffened, biting the inside of her cheek to still the shock that rolled through her as she stared at the two in front of her. While she'd picked up that this mysterious female was Feyre - she hadn't known she'd played a hand in destroying his court. She felt Tamlin's brief flare of shame and his sorrowful stroking through the bond. She eased his concern by buffering back her forgiveness, however simple.  _We explained we would go through your past together, Tamlin. Relax, I am not angry, just surprised._

Her eyes once more inspected the female - Feyre - and she remembered what Tamlin had just stated. She had played a role in bringing his court to ruin. Regardless of her motives, she felt immediate animosity for her actions. One man had made a horrible decision, but her vengeance didn't affect just his own pride, but everyone's well-being. As a fellow victim, she had to force herself not to launch forward and slap that look off the woman's face. Tamlin seemed to sense her roiling emotions and she responded down the bond.  _I'll explain it later, but is it wrong that I have the sudden urge to claw her eyes out?_

The flash of amusement that trickled back at her made her bite her cheek to avoid a grin.

The snarl out of the male made their internal banter down the bond cease. He stepped forward, sneering faintly at Tamlin, and she felt him tense behind her. She reached back and clasped his hip, gently stroking, hoping it would soothe him as the male stared him down with contempt. It seemed to have the desired effect, despite Rhysand's words holding the bite she thought they would.

"You're a damned High Lord, Tamlin.  _No one forced you to make the choices you did - that is entirely on_ _ **your head**_ _, not Feyre's._ If anything, you should  _thank_ her. She showed you all your awful tendencies and look at you now. You have a mate, you look...surprisingly better than when we last met. You've shown some positive growth towards the male you should  _have always been_. Act like the High Lord you are, not some sniveling mortal youth without a lick of common sense." Rhysand bared his teeth and the air crackled around them again - and for the briefest of moments, Shula was afraid. Feyre reached for his hand and only when he looked back at her, did the vicious expression on his face ease.

Shula frowned, stepping forward, staring angrily at the male in front of her. "Congratulations, now everyone is angry. Is that why you came out here, to pick a fight? Well, good job, you succeeded."

As she shifted her eyes towards Feyre, dismissing Rhysand entirely, she gave Tamlin a sudden glare, letting him know she didn't want him defending her if Rhysand chose to reprimand her, feeling a faint amused surprise flickering back at her before she steadily met Feyre's gaze.

"Seeing as you seem to be the only one here  _not_  stewing for a fight, let's chat. I don't know, nor care, about your collective past, only fixing things as they are now so no one else suffers. High Court meeting? Explain."

To her everlasting surprise, Tamlin and Rhysand said nothing, going completely quiet, as Feyre nodded, her lips twitching in amusement. "Very well, Lady Spring. The seven courts of Prythian and their respective High Lords met prior to the final war with Hybern to discuss an alliance. We'd like to see it continue to deal with the effects of the wall being brought down. The world is changing, humans and fae no longer have a magical barrier as an excuse to avoid contact, and we need to discuss re-negotiations of the treaty with the mortal humans before more tempers rise. Tamlin, as High Lord of Spring, should be there."

Shula nodded, glancing back at Tamlin. "Well? Do you accept?"

He smiled as he stared at her before he glanced at Feyre. "I will be there, but only if Shula is allowed to accompany me as a member of the council."

That surprised her, but she felt his amused reply echo down the bond as he kept his gaze on Feyre.  _As I said earlier, you've done so well so far - why break the trend? Besides, I like it when you're bossy. It arouses me._

Feeling the tell-tale sensation of a blush creeping up her face, she scowled as she looked back at Feyre. The female seemed to sense what was going on between them as she bit her lower lip with a soft grin. "Condition accepted. We will see you both at Dawn Court in a week. It was nice to meet you, Shula. Congratulations again on your bond."

Before Shula could reply, they were gone - winnowed away. She felt Tamlin suddenly shudder, relaxing behind her, then grab her and drag her towards the creek, clothes and all.

"I need you, stay and bathe again with me. I will explain everything before the meeting, I promise." His eyes looked saddened, shining under the glow of the moon, as he tugged her towards the creek. Despite the odd reunion ending positively, she could sense the heavy undercurrent of twisted emotions underneath Tamlin's skin. She went without protest but frowned, shaking her head, wanting him to know she only wanted him to discuss his past when  _he_  was ready and wished to.

"You don't have to, you know. I understand if the memories cause you pain and you want to avoi - " His hand quickly covered her mouth, interrupting her reply, as he shook his head while he gently tugged her dress off, setting it on a boulder to try, before pulling her into the creek with him, simply holding her against him as they stared up at the stars.

"No, it's time. When we're back at the manor, and you see the state it's in….I need to tell you. You need to understand the history here, between them and me, so if anything, you're prepared. Not all the High Lords are charming or kind. I want you prepared for your own safety."

His fingers stroked her shoulders and she acquiesced. "Alright."

Together, they finished bathing then dressed, finding Tamlin's breeches where they'd tucked them earlier between two hollow trunks, heading back to camp and falling into an exhausted slumber. Tamlin held her closer than usual that night and she comforted him as they slept, letting him know without words that she trusted and loved him - no matter what the days ahead brought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a slow chapter with yet MORE angst (Tamlin is an angst machine, afterall) but I wanted a chapter to touch upon the state of the Spring Court manor from ACOFAS. 
> 
> I've kept Tamlin's head-space strictly to shame and self-flagellation rather than suicidal given that he does finally have a cheerleader in his corner now and I didn't personally like that turn in ACOFAS - and what is fanfiction if it's not writing what you'd want to see?
> 
> Let me know what you think.

_Part 3 - Rebuilding_

* * *

 

It took an additional three days to reach the seat of the Spring Court lands due to the limitations of their new dependents, some still nursing injuries from their time in confinement, but Shula didn’t mind the slow pace. It allowed her to learn the shape of the land, becoming familiar with the intricate details of her new home and the new people she’d pledged to protect with Tamlin.

Most Higher and Lesser Fae were either from the Spring Court or other surrounding areas of Prythian that bordered along the Autumn or Summer Courts to the North and the mortals amongst the refugees mostly hailed from the war-torn human region to the South, as Tamlin suspected. They were a shy lot but given no reason to refuse the act of asylum from Shula or Tamlin, continued with them towards the manor estate.

When they stepped out from the edge of the forest and into the meadows beyond, the structured shape of the land telling her instinctively that they were nearing the seat of the Spring Court, a pregnant silence descended upon the group, startling Shula out of her introspection.

As she lifted her gaze, she felt the bond she shared with Tamlin grow dark and quiet, most likely a reflection of his mood. Despite his promise to talk of his past, they had spent most of their time tending to the refugees, tumbling into a clumsy pile of sleep together before words could be exchanged. Each night, he didn’t have a chance to offer words before sleep claimed him and she didn’t press for any either, often joining him within mere seconds of one another, limbs tangled together for comfort as well as warmth.

Ahead of them, the manor loomed towards the sky in the basin of a small sloping valley like an abandoned and defiled behemoth, its scars apparent for all to see. Once upon a time, it must have been a formidable fixture of the Spring Court’s power, but now it was a mere shadow of that past life. The manor and estate, once grandiose, had fallen to squalor and ruin, in some areas quite viciously by the tell-tale signs of looting and destructive damage. The sight of it shocked her and she did her best to subdue the reaction through the bond, already able to feel the churning emotions from Tamlin.

A few murmurs and audible gasps from the refugees around her had her swallowing, also at a loss for what to say, as she took in the sight in front of her.

Shula had expected some neglect from Tamlin’s brief comments and from what she noted during the terse discussion the other night with Rhysand and Feyre, but as she stared, she could see the deliberate devastation in the estate. Most likely, the destruction they saw was no collateral damage of the war that had just ended but instead from the previous occupants of the Spring Court itself, expressing their anger, resentment, and unforgiving stance on Tamlin’s past actions.

_Shula, I…_

She heard Tamlin’s despair, his choked words, echoing at her through the bond, and she looked over at him, where he carried more than his share of supplies from across the group, his expression hard and cold as ice. Only his eyes, softening slightly, held the pain she heard in the bond.

She offered him a soft gentle smile, keeping pity out of her tone, as she whispered back at him, then began to walk towards the manor, lifting her skirts, pretending nothing was amiss. _All of this can be fixed, Tamlin. It’s the people we need to worry over, not homes or things that can be repaired or replaced. Don’t worry, we can handle this._

The bleakness she felt in the bond seemed to slightly shift, lighten, and she smiled, gently urging the others to move with her. “Let’s take a look around, shall we? See what we can find that can be used tonight and gather in a large area of the house? A ballroom, perchance?”

Hearing the murmured approvals at her back, she looked over her shoulder as they neared the entry to the manor, seeing Tamlin skirt back, tensing, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance. She followed his gaze as the others passed them, heading inside, until she saw what he stared at, feeling a sharp stabbing pain through the bond as the others left them alone, standing outside the threshold to the manor proper.

She struggled to contain her gasp, her eyes wide, at what was once most likely a beautiful rose garden -- now mostly mere cinders. Charred remains of roses and well-crafted flowers of all shapes and sizes were destroyed, most burnt, some simply torn up by the roots and left to wither and dry up in the sun. Tamlin turned away, his shoulders trembling, chest heaving, and she could hear the soft growl that exited his lips as his talons sprang loose.

The bond was a sensory hurricane, making Shula wince as she steered along the edge of it as she approached him. She gently reached out, laying a hand along his shoulder, and he savagely roared so loud that she hesitated to touch him further but refused to remove her hand.

 _What was it?_ She asked gently, wondering the significance of the plot of land. By his reaction, she had her suspicions, but she waited as he struggled to control the beast, feeling fur start to lengthen along his spine under her fingertips.

 _It was her garden._ He replied back in his head, unfastening his trousers quickly, another roar escaping his mouth as his body twisted and reshaped, the beast sprouting in place of the male, unable to cope with the pain. She listened to his words turn guttural, his feral side taking ownership of his thoughts, as his head turned, face elongating, horns sprouting, eyes changing from green to gold. _My mother’s. It was her rose garden - now it’s gone, nothing, like this place. I...need air._

She nodded, stepping back and dropping her hand, keeping her eyes on his - now gold instead of green, beast instead of man - holding no judgement in her own. She smiled as the beast purred, the noise sounding pained, as it shifted restlessly against the tidal wave of emotions the male from before felt. _Go. I’ll be here when you return._

Like the flick of a switch - his thoughts turned less humanoid, more bestial, and he was simply the beast - existing in a linear scale of want, need, and curiosity.  She watched as the beast turned and tore off into the forest beyond, the roar echoing along the trees and sending birds and other wildlife into terrified bursts of movement.

Closing her eyes, feeling the bond fade into a shadow as the distance between them grew, Shula sighed in sympathy for her mate and turned, heading inside to help assist in whatever way she could.

* * *

 

Inside, the devastation seemed so much worse. Moving room to room, Shula stared in fixed horror at the intricate efforts of Tamlin’s opponents in destroying all personal effects throughout the manor. They had not only wanted to attack his home and the seat of the Spring Court, they wanted to attack all of what he was and made sure to demonstrate that in the deplorable conditions of any room or item that even hinted at personal significance to Tamlin or his family. The violence apparent in each room, the amount of energy spent in demolishing all that the manor held for Tamlin’s house, was a deeply personal assault for what had once been his people and spoke of their outrage before their abandonment.

Shula admittedly struggled as the day drew on and Tamlin failed to return. Still, she forced herself to understand the carnage around her from his perspective - the estate, in all its ruin, was a testament to his dark past, all his faults on display to friend and foe and lover alike, and his absence spoke of his fear of judgement from the world at large and - more importantly - from _her._

 _Oh, Tamlin._ She inwardly sighed. _I admit, this is….shocking...but you can’t change the past, no matter how much you want to. I still believe in you, no matter how bad this looks. Please come home._

As the hours passed, the bond remained steadfastly silent, just echoes of pain and remorse briefly flaring amongst other dark-natured emotions, but Shula did her best not to dwell on her mate and focused on constructive efforts, leading the refugees into creating order out of the chaos.

She could still see the silent judgements, the silent assessments, as prying eyes watched her amongst the crowd. Staying true to her words from the days before, she said nothing against Tamlin or his Court, simply appearing oblivious to the magnitude of destruction around the estate. After a while, the tension of the crowd eased, and she realized that the judgments and assessments were mere observations for hurt emotions, concerned for her well-being rather than being against it.

That realization eased a tension inside  her that she didn’t realize she had, offering the group more unconstrained smiles as the day went on.

Together, they looked for suitable furniture and linens that could be used to construct sleeping quarters in the large halls and banquet rooms, and a few women, familiar like her with the inner workings of a properly stocked kitchen, assisted her in taking measure of the food supplies. She sighed, concerned with what she found, but a few of the men that had joined them as they were completing their review of the larders offered to scout the estate grounds for any leftover farmstock to feed the crowd that night. Smiling, thanking them, Shula left the women to preparing what little they had found and wandered the halls alone, listening to the sounds of the refugees at work, focused on forming their makeshift camp for the night and discarding the debris as she asked in a large pile behind the manor itself. Tomorrow, they would burn it, casting off the old in hopes of building the new.

Hesitating along a window, she once more caught sight of the rose garden and frowned. Snagging the attention of a young boy, she asked that he gather all the children and began to walk towards the cluster of french doors that led outside. 

* * *

 

_Why did I lead them there? To that..barren destroyed plot of land? I should have burned it to the ground before setting out on my search._

The beast panted, roaring, running for miles and miles on end, until the soft slopes of the High Court lands steeply inclined, hinting at the mountainous terrain near the coast. It slowed, pausing, tilting its head to the side as it turned, looking back the way it came. Its twin golden eyes looked down, staring at the patches of torn earth where its claws tore freely, destroying the soft laid forest floor beneath them.

Briefly, shame flickered through Tamlin as he realized suddenly what he’d done - he’d ran, steering towards oblivion rather than face his shameful past like he should have. Shifting back to a two-legged and broken male, Tamlin fell on his hands and knees in exhaustion, struggling to contain his self-hatred and self-pity, the wounds bleeding openly from within. He hadn’t wanted their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of it, and at the time fleeing seemed like such a simple choice.

Now, he regretted it and realized yet again, how truly ill-suited he was as High Lord.

Shula had been remarkably silent along the bond as he ran, but he could sense her sympathy, her kindness, her understanding, and that was the only thing that finally made him stop running. They only had four days until the next High Court meeting and, like it or not, Rhysand and Feyre would be back, demanding the Spring Court take their seat at the council to decide how the negotiations of the Fae-Human treaty should be re-evaluated. He would not leave her to face that alone.

Her words from the previous days echoed back at him as he looked up towards the darkening sky. _I believe in you and I **love** you. **Together** \- we'll do it **together**._

He closed his eyes, smiling, humbled again at the magnificence of his mate. She’d defied survival with the risk of being exposed to the cauldron, becoming Made instead of perishing. She’d defied magic, becoming like him, and she’d defied fear and stood against Rhysand like it was no small feat. If he did anything right before he left this life, it would be to make her proud.

He stilled, realizing the significance of what she offered. _She has faith in me. She makes me want to be different, **better** , and by the Gods, I will **not** fail her._

Turning, he shifted again, this time pushing his pace, as he tore across the forest back towards the root of all his flaws but also the one person who promised to help him shape it into something worthy of the title it bore.

* * *

 

Smiling, she nodded at the finished product, ruffling the hair of her young helpers as she settled into an abused chair in a study that she only presumed to be Tamlin’s. She grinned as she watched them each curtsey then run off to assist and play in the fields as the men from earlier, who came back with a surprising number of salvageable edibles, called out for assistance in bringing their bounties to the kitchen.

Turning, she smiled as she listened to the children assist their elders, before she forced her attention back to the task at hand - righting the study - and began to make sense of the shattered room. Too lost in her work, Shula paused as she suddenly felt an unnatural stillness in the room.

Frowning, she turned, her eyes moving from the papers in her hand to the room at large, wondering at the source, when she jerked slightly in surprise at seeing Tamlin standing quietly in the closed doorway, staring past her and through the windows, his expression both pained and humbled, unshed tears shimmering in his eyes. The stillness came from him, she realized, as she watched him, the room somehow growing quiet from the roiling emotions he was struggling to keep subdued.

Stepping forward, she reached for him, but he seemed so focused on something outside, he barely registered her as she drew near him.  “Tamlin? You’re back? I didn’t hear you enter, or through the bond, is everything alright? I…”

She trailed off, turning to see what he stared at, then pinkened and lowered her gaze, realizing what he’d discovered. “I...hope you don’t mind, I saw that not all of them were completely ruined. They will need some love and attention, but they should make some recovery, at least that’s what some of the men familiar with agriculture told me when we…”

“You replanted them. My mother’s roses. Those…” He interrupted her struggle of words his voice quiet, then suddenly strong, the words hoarse as he continued on, his eyes shifting towards her. “Those were her favorite.”

 _Her favorite…_ The words sunk in and she swallowed at their significance, trembling as she struggled not to shatter at the look on his face. Bridging the small gap between them quickly, he cupped her jaw, closing his eyes as he leaned down and kissed her - her jaw, her cheeks, her brows, her lips.

“Shula,” He whispered, speaking her name again in place of the words he still feared to say, between softly laid kisses. She blushed and remained unmoving, allowing him the leisure to drug her with kisses. Her arousal bloomed just as his did, feeling the flare of need pouring down the bond, and she reached for him.

He groaned, dropping his grip on her face and gently curling his hands around her hips, as his kisses deepened, drawing her tongue into his mouth. She moaned, feeling his body flare to life, gently prodding the soft flesh between her hips, as his hand moved to urge her closer. She obliged, pressing forward just as he did, but before things could escalate a knock interrupted them at the door.

Pulling away after a moment’s hesitation, he gently nipped at the base of her throat before turning, grabbing a tunic from a discarded pile of papers, thrusting it over his head as she shuddered and straightened her clothes.

Swallowing, willing down her body’s protest at the interruption, she resumed her earlier goal of establishing order to the chaos left behind as Tamlin greeted the presence on the other side of the door.

She recognized the voice that greeted him and smiled, listening as Tamlin murmured something with one of the men who had been selected to oversee the construction of the sleeping quarters. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled as she watched him follow the man down the hall, towards the shelters in question.

As she returned to shuffling and making sense of the piles of paper, she heard his voice echo suddenly along her nerves with a soft purr of affection. _Upstairs, third door on the right. Meet me there in a few hours for a surprise._

She smiled and sent her acceptance back, settling in to the work before her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Tamlin? Are you in here?"

Shula peered in the open doorway of the room he had requested she join him in, leaning curiously over the threshold. The room was dark and mostly in shadow, but what she saw had her eyes going wide. It was a beautiful room, with crown molding and a peach and pink pattern along the walls, making her gasp as she stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her, silencing the loud noises in the hallway of the refugees working to reset the rest of the manor. The effortless way they worked, despite injury or impediment, continued to impress her. In the morning, they'd have to feast to their success and hopefully, in time, the manor would be less of a tomb and more of a home to celebrate their survival in.

Turning faintly, almost afraid to make a sound, she looked around the ornate antiquity of the room, feeling as if she was intruding on something very special.

"Tamlin?" She whispered, slowing in her perusal of the room as she spotted a detailed oil painting against the far wall, hanging over a grand marble fireplace. She stared, enraptured at what she saw, slowly walking towards it, absorbing the faces of those set by brushes, coming to stand before it, looking up into the beautiful face of a fae woman holding a blonde babe with two older boys standing beside her. She swallowed, her eyes falling from the woman to the babe, somehow knowing she was staring at her mate. "Is that...you?"

"This was my mother's room. It was warded, so that's the only reason it survived." Tamlin spoke from behind her, making her gasp and whirl. He tugged her gently up against his form, his head canted back, staring up at the panting, his expression unreadable.

"She looks like you," Shula murmured, turning to stare at the woman once more. "Your...brothers?" She managed to ask, looking at the two older boys.

"Yes," Tamlin replied, his voice sounding odd and wooden to her ears, even the bond strangely quiet. She didn't have the nerve to send a sensory trail along it just yet. She could tell he was struggling on a deep level, in the way his hands kneaded her hips and his frame briefly trembled.

She frowned, looking over the painting. "Why is your father not present?"

"He didn't have time for such things," Tamlin murmured, guiding her away from the painting. "Come here. I've something to show you."

He led her to an ornately carved vanity of cream and crimson, little red rosebuds carved into the mirror frame, tugging out the tufted bench, urging her to sit. Kneeling down beside her, she watched his stony facial expression through the mirror's reflection as he leaned forward, opening several glass-framed cases gilded in gold and silver jewels.

"Tamlin, I…" She struggled with what to say, knowing how much it must have pained him to go through his mother's things with how she died. Suddenly, she wondered if that happened in  _this_  room, going stiff, her eyes slowly looking about for telltale signs.

"It didn't happen in this room," He murmured, making her freeze, as if he sensed her thoughts. She looked back over at him and he smiled faintly, the action honest and clear. His eyes were warm, his face relaxed, and somehow...unguarded. "She told me…" He chuckled, his eyes lowering as he seemed to find the thing he was looking for, plucking it from one of the many cases before sliding the drawers shut, turning her to face him, away from the mirror.

She sat there, staring, barely able to breathe, as she watched Tamlin study her. Love shined in his eyes and he smiled again, the action unprompted and genuine, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"As I was saying, my mother, when I was little, told me that I'd meet a  _very special_  girl one day.  _My mate_." He grinned, gently tapping her on the nose, keeping that thing he found hidden in his palm. Shula sat, staring, feeling her pulse pounding louder and louder in her ears as he went on. "And I was to give her something of hers that was  _very special._  And...here we are."

Tamlin smiled, holding up his hand and outstretching his fingers, a perfect pear-shaped diamond ring glinting in the sunlight that streamed from the window. "So, Shula, do you accept my mother's ring, as my mate?"

Shula's mouth opened but she couldn't seem to form words. What was he asking her? To be his wife? Weren't they already married in the eyes of the fae? She stared, wide-eyed and heart pounding, the love she felt for him overwhelming her in that moment, and Tamlin looked over his shoulder and whispered in a conspiracle tone to the painting. "You didn't tell me what to do if she didn't say anything, mother. What should I do now?"

" _Yes!_ Yes, I accept. _I accept!_ " She finally managed, tackling him, kissing him as he laughed and slid the ring on her finger. He returned the kiss, slowing her fervor down until they curled against one another, breathing each other's air, memorizing each other's face with their hands, mouth, and tongue.

"Shula,  _my_  Shula, Lady of the - " Tamlin stilled, lifting his head as he looked down at her with a frown. "What's your last name?"

"Gallagher," She responded with a laugh, watching a grin break out over his face as he tilted his head back down, nibbling along her collarbones.

"Shula Gallagher, Lady of the Spring Court. Perhaps Lady isn't enough…" He murmured, his tongue trailing along her bodice. He gently tugged her closer, rolling atop her, her legs easily spreading to give him room. He growled softly, nibbling at the buttons along her bodice.

She laughed, a soft moan escaping her as his hands traveled up her thighs, finding her sex, gently parting her with his fingers and slipping a digit inside. "What else is there but Lady? I -  _ohhh_ …"

His hand moved, just in the way he knew she liked, but still it wasn't enough. She wanted  _him_ , not his hand, and reached for his trousers, eagerly working to spring him free. He groaned as she cupped him, working the stays quickly, gently removing him from his clothes.

"I want you," He growled again, and she felt his talons extend, his breathing growing labored, his tone carrying that lisp when his fangs extended. She felt her own spring free, then urged him to take her.

He moved up her body, positioning himself and removing his hand, angling his hips just right after pushing her skirts out of the way, sinking into her warm heat slowly. She moaned, tightening her thighs around him, urging him deeper, and he obliged, thrusting forward hard and fast, all the way to the hilt. She moaned at the hard settle of his hips against hers, his cock buried deep, simply occupying his territory. It felt wonderful, and she briefly wondered if it would ever stop, the  _wanting._

" _Look at me, Shula,_ " He growled, tilting her head with one hand, urging her to open her eyes. She did as he asked and he groaned softly, lips parting, watching her reaction as he slowly rocked his hips into hers. She moaned again, tightening around him, and watched his face dissolve into a brief spasm of ecstasy. He panted, groaning again, his fangs lengthening, and she felt herself melt further around him. "I'm going to spill if you keep doing that. I want it to be when you go, too."

Those words made her insides tighten further and he growled, his face contorting again in that now familiar pleasure-pain she saw when he was close. His hand dropped from her face to briskly rub her clit while he moved atop her at a steady pace, holding her gaze. She swallowed, moaning, panting, but holding that heavy-lidded stare, and she immediately stiffened, on the precipice. His jaw flexed and his eyes stuttered, another sharp growl escaping his lips.

" _Gods,_ you're close. I can feel you quivering around me. Being inside you is like  _heaven_ , Shula. I'm -  _Gods_ , _I'm going to spill. Come now,_ Shula.  _Now."_ Tamlin stiffened, his eyes turning golden, mouth twisting, fangs elongating, and she felt his cock stiffen and swell and begin to kick inside her, followed by a plume of heat -

She exploded, screaming, shrieking,  _dying -_ and his mouth covered hers forcefully, drowning out her screams as he thrust in hard, ravenous strokes, driving them both into a second orgasm so obliterating, they both sagged under the onslaught. He groaned, trembling in her grasp, and she struggled not to fall to pieces. It took them both several minutes to calm, both eagerly dissolving around the other, her body milking his spasms, mutually basking in the afterglow of such a release.

Afterwards, he lifted her, taking her into the attached bath, where he drew a tub full of water and stripped them of their clothing, keeping her tight against his form once they sank into the tub together. She didn't want to move, her head pressed against his chest, eyes closing, content.

"I should tell you about my past now," Tamlin murmured against her brow, waking her from a slight doze. She lifted her gaze, meeting his worried one.

"Alright." She replied, resting her head against his shoulder. "Where would you like to start?"

"I suppose the beginning is best," he replied in such a serious tone she elbowed him in the side, eliciting a brief chuckle from him before he sighed, a silence descending in the bath.

Tipping her head up, she frowned as she stared at him. "Tamlin, if you think this will change how I feel about you…" She saw the brief look of terror in his eyes, confirming her suspicions, making her sit up and stare into his gaze firmly as she stroked his cheeks, "It  _won't._  I love you and I don't say those words lightly. So, you messed up?  _Congratulations,_ so has everyone else on this world at one point in their lives. Going forward, it's what you do to  _fix_  those past actions that matter. People will be wary of you, yes. You've given them evidence of that, so you can't be shocked that your reputation precedes you, but it  _doesn't_  mean you should just give up.  _Change their minds_ , Tamlin. I know you can."

Tamlin sighed, chuckling faintly as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "You make it sound so easy, Shula."

"Because it  _can_ be that easy, Tamlin. Now, tell me all these horrible acts you've done...and I'll tell you how to fix them." She grinned, watching as he tilted his head towards her and cracked an eye open, watching her bat her lashes in exaggeration. He laughed and tugged her close.

Laying her head against his shoulder once more, she closed her eyes and listened as Tamlin told his story, feeling the bond open, flooding her with sensations and emotions as he talked.

* * *

Two hours later, Shula sat in silence, her eyes slowly opening, tipping her head up to look over at Tamlin. He had gone rigid, his eyes flat and turned inward, darkened with some strong visceral emotion she couldn't name. His hands that had gripped her hips so gently earlier felt like a dead weight, as he if was afraid to reach for her, waiting for her to shove him away with disgust.

It took considerable effort for her to avoid crying for the pain and disgust he felt - at himself, at his past, at others - her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She turned, scooting closer, feeling his unfocused gaze staring at some tortured part of himself, most likely continuing to gnaw viciously at some old wound of his that wouldn't heal simply because he hated himself too much to allow it to seal.

She thought over what he had told her, struggling to come to grips with some of his choices and the consequences that followed such actions, but at the heart of it -  _nothing_  had changed. She still loved him, perhaps now more than ever.

She saw a lonely, desolate man, who lacked any decent support system since he was a child, thrust from one traumatic event to the next, with no reprieve between them and introduced to no healthy means in which to react to them.

First, an overbearing and hateful father who forced a young boy to betray a potential friend. Then, his family, butchered, torn from him, before he could understand the cold concept of death. Next, cursed to ruin all of Prythian by a heartless infatuated fae, only to actually fall in love and watch the human die he was cursed to love to save his people, doomed to do nothing but stare as she was taken from him. Then, she was resurrected, and everything should have been perfect - but it wasn't, and he was too afraid to investigate why. After all they'd endured, after all  _she_ had endured, how could he tell her he wasn't sure if they were a good fit anymore? Even when he loved her so much?

After all that nightmarish pretending, she left - partially because he struggled to contain his own demons, his own issues, and left only a simple note telling him to leave her be, _weeks_  after her capture by a member of the Night Court, by Rhysand, who'd spent  _centuries_ cultivating a personification of a monster. With only Rhysand's public persona to drive him for a motive to her absence, he was driven to extremes to try and protect her, with  _no one_  - not even his best friend - with the courage to tell him truthfully how he was acting.

She saw his explosive temper, the way he locked Feyre up in his overzealous need to protect her, not realizing from his own internal struggles that it was doing more harm than good. She saw him doubt his own sentries, siding with a priestess that - through discovery - was amoral and corrupt. She saw his vulgar insults towards Feyre and her mate, Rhysand, at the initial High Court council session. She saw his aide in freeing Feyre from King Hybern's castle, where he watched in horror as her two sisters were transformed - like her - into something  _other_. She saw him help resurrect Feyre's lover, despite all that had been done to him, and him to them, and asked that she be  _happy_. And she saw him return to a broken court that no longer held faith in their High Lord, destroying his home, his belongings, before abandoning him for good.

"Tamlin," she whispered, stroking his jaw, demanding in a gentle tone that he look at her. "Tamlin, look at me.  _Tamlin._ "

It took several minutes, but eventually his eyes shifted, meeting hers. She stared into his gaze, at the pain she saw there, and - unable to hold it back any longer - began to gently cry for him.

"So, you see? You're not a monster, Shula.  _I'm the monster, not you._  I don't - I can't," He started to sit up, to stand, to leave her, but she snarled and shoved him back down, straddling him and glaring at him through tear-streaked lashes as water sloshed roughly from the tub, coating the tiled floor.

"No,  _you listen!_ I love you! I love you, despite your past, despite whatever the hell they call you out there, out in the world,  _I don't give a damn!_ You're  _my_  monster, Tamlin.  _Mine._ " She sobbed, gently beating at his chest with both fists, not daring to meet his eyes. " _Don't you fucking dare try and walk away from me, now. You're mine, you understand? Mine!"_

It took her a few minutes to realize he'd stopped trying to move, simply gripping her shoulders. She trembled, sobbing, curling her arms around his waist, squeezing as tightly as she could. She heard his sharp inhale, his hands wrapping tightly around her shoulders, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

"I love you," He murmured softly, breaking the silence that settled in the bath for several minutes. She stilled, tensing, feeling his hands stroke gently along her spine. " _Gods,_  I love you. It scares me how much, Shula."

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes looked heavy, shouldered with a new kind of burden, but a smile tugged at his lips. "You're mine, too, you know. If anyone thinks to take you from me, I will  _end_  them. I can't lose you.  _Ever._  It would...break me."

"I'm not going anywhere, you ogre." She elbowed him again, making him grunt faintly from the action. "But no more of this keeping me at arm's length, Tamlin. I  _mean it._  You have to trust that I will never stop loving you. I might get angry from time to time, but I will  _never_  stop loving you."

Tamlin smiled faintly, stroking her cheek with his hand. "It's just...the last time I did the opposite? Things didn't work out so well. I just...I'm not very good at this."

"For Gods' sake, stop talking about your bitch of an ex," Shula growled, making Tamlin blink and laugh.  _"What?"_ She seethed, fully aware she was pouting and not caring at all how it appeared.

"You really don't like her, do you?" He smiled, nibbling at her jaw. She huffed but smirked at his rumble of amusement that followed. "What made you dislike her so much?"

"That night we stood there, with her and her mate...you said - you said she helped ruin your court. Now, don't get me wrong, you made  _plenty_  of idiotic choices, I'm well aware of that, but...I don't understand how she could be capable of harming all the innocents that shelter under your banner in the process. Surely, she had to understand, when your court fell, and Hybern's forces came over to take advantage of the situation, what that would mean for those like the people in this very manor, right now.  _That - that_ , I struggle to forgive  _or_  understand. If she hated you, that's one thing, but to hurt others,  _that_...is harder to forgive." Shula frowned, leaning back, watching Tamlin's expression grow serious.

"It's likely she didn't think of that," He started, only to stop when Shula's hand covered his mouth.

" _Exactly,_  and the same can be said about you,  _and yet_ \- you're the one painted as the bad guy. All I'm saying is,  _everyone's_ hands are a little dirty in this mess and as a voice of those victims down the hall, none of us find it very amusing." She frowned, watching as Tamlin quieted, staring at her.

"What?" She shifted nervously in his lap, growing nervous at his intense stare.

"No one has ever defended me like you just did," he whispered, his eyes growing soft. "No one."

"Yeah, well, get used to it." She murmured, drawing closer and laying a kiss along his cheeks. He growled softly and tugged her closer, and she felt his arousal clearly, but she tugged back, grinning faintly. "No way, not until you tell me all about these other High Lords. You promised, remember?"

Tamlin smiled, his eyes sparkling with some kind of mischief. "Only if you let me spill in you once more. I need you, woman." He gripped her hips, grinding his erection against her.

She gasped, looking shocked, despite the amusement and arousal that sizzled under her skin. "Are you propositioning me?"

"Is it working?" He murmured, dropping his gaze to her breasts.

She wriggled and he took that moment to quickly move, sheathing himself inside her. They both groaned as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.

"I'll take that as a yes," He purred, and spent the next few hours driving her over the edge, again and again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Forgive the heavy monologuing, but we've all read the books, we all know what Tamlin's done. Next chapter, we'll be moving more into Tamlin and Shula on the world stage, where things'll get more interesting. Thanks for the reviews and tagging along with me in this!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter before the world stage, I apologize. I realized I wanted the Spring Court at a certain point in recovery before we added in that load of drama, haha, and that'll be a lengthy chapter. Enjoy!

 

"My Lady, watch out!"

Laughing faintly, Shula turned and barely avoided a roll sailing through the air that wanted to hit her square in the side of the face. The youth that had thrown the roll looked contrite, if not embarrassed, but she simply dodged it and grinned, setting the group around them at ease. The boy ran over, apologizing profusely at the demands of his mother, then picked up the roll from where it landed on the large makeshift table and hurried off to  _hand_  it to the recipient rather than throw it again.

Hearing Tamlin's laughter beside her made her smile again, glancing over at him as he swiped a thumb across her cheek. "I think some flour still hit you here," he teased, smoothing off the offending layer of flour and licking his finger with the flat of his tongue, others nearby joining in with his laughter as she swatted at his hand. She grinned at his chuckle, leaning in and kissing him before snagging another roll out of the bread basket being passed around.

"How are the pastures doing today, Kervald?" She asked, tipping her head to the side, studying the fae male not two heads down, who ate with the gusto of a teen boy from the mortal lands.

"Good, good. The soil's still soft and fertile, which is all I could have hoped for." Kervald responded around a mouthful of food, thanking one of the women that came by, dropping off more mutton and rice. "Hopefully, given the weather, if I lay the tracks today, we'll be seeing some sprouts within two months' time, give or take. The mill needs more work than the fields, but your mate has thrown himself into it with vigor. It's those damned roots that take hold of the water wheel that's slowing it down. Good thing he can transform into that beast of his and make quick work of them."

She looked over at Tamlin out of the corner of his eye, who shrugged off the compliment like it was no small feat, briefly bowing his head when a servant passed him a bowl and ladle for the greens that had been brought in with the meal. She smiled faintly, nodding in appreciation at Kervald's detailed report, looking around the room at the faces in the ballroom, which had been turned into a common room for eating and drinking - a public affair that Shula had insisted take place at all once with her and Tamlin mingling with the crowd, not sitting on a raised dais away from their people - pleased to see that after just a few days' time, the marks of pain and suffering were fading, replaced with laugh lines and jovial attitudes.

The others enjoyed the busy work and the return of normal mundane activities to their lives. The structure and normalcy were as effective as any other means to compartmentalize and overcome the horrors they'd faced during their imprisonment and an unspoken rule had been established since they set to work on the manor grounds - only speak of the past if prompted, otherwise focus only on the future.

With Tamlin and Shula having claimed his mother's old room at the insistence of the group, they now worked diligently to restore the other rooms to proper bedrooms for the others to occupy. A few had balked at first, but at Shula and Tamlin's gentle insistence, took to the request eventually. They had burned all that had been destroyed like she had planned and the barren walls, cracked and in need of repair, now spoke more of promise in the future than the shattered past.

She had noticed Tamlin insisted on not being called High Lord - not  _here_ , not  _now_ , not after the war and  _everything_  that had happened. To the outside world, he answered to the title, responding to a few missives sent from Feyre and Rhysand and Thesan's Court, where the High Lord Council would be hosted tomorrow, but to those who he had tentatively offered shelter and earned respect, he was only Tamlin, Shula's mate. She stilled as she thought about that meeting, swallowing that innate sense of fear for the unknown, knowing Tamlin had done his best to prepare her for the trials ahead.

As if sensing her thoughts, Tamlin leaned over, brushing her hand off her shoulder to kiss along her jawline and murmur in her head, where the others couldn't overhear, speaking softly down that bond they shared.  _Everything alright, love?_

She nodded, glancing back at him, shivering despite the warmth of the day and the large shared eating space with the way he was looking at her. She smiled, looking around the room again, watching the lively conversation continuing on without them.  _Yes, everything's fine. I'm just nervous about tomorrow. You think they're ready for another Made High Fae in their midst? After everything?_

Tamlin's snort ruffled the soft hairs against her neck, making her hold back a laugh.  _I don't give a damn if they are or not, you're my mate - my equal. I will accept nothing less than absolute respect at the marvelous creature you are._

Despite his gentle tone, she still worried, her body stating as much as she frowned, fidgeting, turning away to hide that silly apprehension that refused to leave her. Despite being quizzed quite thoroughly on who was who and what their pasts were, until she knew them by memory, she knew it would be no reflection on how they'd treat her or how they would react to her presence.

 _Shula,_ Tamlin softly demanded, making her look back at him. He frowned, noting the shadows in her eyes, rubbing a palm across the base of her neck, tipping her chin up with his fingers.  _You are an amazing woman. Just look at what you've done for these people, for me._ He let his gaze travel around the room and she followed suit, smiling faintly at all the laughing faces around the room. His fingers coaxed her chin back towards him and she met his gaze, flushing at the smile he gave her.  _You've won the heart of these people, of me, and that means more than what any old High Lord thinks of you. Relax, love. Just be yourself._

He grinned faintly, flashing his teeth, rubbing his tongue against an eyetooth.  _Besides, anyone says something to offend you? I'll rip their godsdamned throat out._

She chuckled, swatting at him again, making him laugh. Part of her knew he was serious, part of her relished that, and it squashed that remaining flicker of doubt to an afterthought.  _Alright, alright, enough worrying, I get the message. You've made your point._ Still, his little pep talk  _had_  made her feel better and she let him know as much in the emotions she sent down the bond.

He purred faintly, kissing her cheek, then rose, clinking his fork against his glass, making her still, an eyebrow raising in surprise.  _What are you doing?_

He smiled down at her then looked around when the room went silent.  _You'll see soon, my love. Now hush, I have a speech to give._

If the eyes of the room weren't on him, she would have swatted him again for good measure, the laughter bouncing down the bond telling her he knew as much. He smiled at the others, who had stopped eating and held their attention to his toast.

"Hello and happy mid-day," he began, grinning at the others. "Thank you to all the kitchen ladies and my mate," he winked down at her, drawing a few catcalls from the men in the back along with some laughter, before he continued, "for supplying us with this fine meal. I'd like to start off by saying... _thank you_. Thank you for having faith in me. Thank you for giving me a second chance. I hope, as time continues on, you grow to trust me like you once did for those who used to call this court home. For those that are new, I hope you find it pleasant enough to stay, but should you choose to leave, you will always be welcome back with open arms."

A few claps met his words and he smiled, continuing on in thanking the crowd gathered for all their accomplishments since returning to the Spring Court. The manor grounds still had a lot of work to be considered recovered from the ravages brought on the lands, but the changes could be seen everywhere. She smiled, noting that the crowd no longer stared at him with dubious expressions and now seemed to honor his contributions to the group. They had seen, over the past several days, that his remorse for his past actions seemed genuine and a tentative trust had started to form between them and Shula was pleased at the immeasurable improvement it had on his self-worth and countenance.

"But the  _real_  reason I'm keeping you from finishing your meal," he grinned, causing a few more chuckles to escape the group, looking back over at her, drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand, "is for this lady."

She blinked, her eyebrows raising, as he gently urged her into a standing position at his side. She smiled at the others but gave him a confused stare, clueless what he was getting at.  _Tamlin, what are you doing?_

"She has been... _everything_  this court needed," he murmured, ignoring her question down the bond, staring at her with so much love in his eyes she hesitated to say anything, swallowing at the murmurs of agreement she heard around the crowd. "She is my equal, in every way. While I don't ask - actually, prefer that you  _don't_  - call me High Lord….please help me in my quest to call her High Lady. She deserves equal footing, if not  _more_  footing, than I deserve."

A chorus of cheers and applause had her stilling, her eyes wide. "W-What?"

Tamlin smiled, cupping her cheek, the crowd around them growing quiet once more. "You know, when I first realized I would be High Lord one day...I didn't want it." The crowd behind them whispered and he nodded over at them, a serious expression on his face before he looked back at her, that loving look passing over his features again while he stroked her chin, making her swallow back tears. He was sharing something intimate, something vulnerable, with them - and it had the effect she had hoped it would one day - that they would see the  _man_  instead of the monster, the  _high fae_  instead of the High Lord.

"It frightened me and still does. I've made such  _horrible_  decisions, it was as if fate knew how bad I would be at the role. And then - then fate sent me  _you_ , Shula. You would honor me by taking the title High Lady, leading this court just as equally as me. Do you accept?"

She didn't hear the crowd quiet, or Tamlin's sudden sharp breath, as they waited for her to respond. She didn't even care that tears started to slip past her lids, tumbling down her cheeks as she smiled up at him.  _Fate sent me you to me, too. I needed you just as much as you needed me, Tamlin._

He smiled, then tipped his head to the side, his eyes canting towards the crowd staring at them.  _We're waiting, you know._

She laughed, looking around the room, wiping at her eyes. "I accept."

Tamlin grinned as the crowd cheered, the roar of applause loud in her ears as her mate leaned over and kissed her in front of everyone, not caring how it looked.

Words of love whispered along the bond between them and in that moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

 

"Are you ready?"

She turned, having done nothing but stand and stare at herself in the mirror for several minutes, nodding. She opened her mouth to say something but once she caught sight of him, forgot what she was going to say, simply staring at the portrait he painted from the doorway to their bedroom.

She swallowed, looking over his form, admiring the bright green tunic embroidered with roses in red silk thread along the edges of the garment, a bright ornamental baldric in place across his chest, his legs encased in molded leather breeches, a simple crown of gold roses adorning his head. She shuddered, her eyes half-closing, suddenly taken by arousal, at the primitive yet primally appealing look his Court attire held.

"You look very handsome," she offered by way of apology when she failed to respond, leaving him standing in the doorway with a small smile tugging at his lips. He'd noticed her study of him and bit the inside of her cheek to hide her scowl, despite heat suffusing her cheeks.

"And you are so beautiful I almost wish to keep you here, lest someone find you appealing and plan to steal you away from me," he murmured, his eyes glowing as they lowered, taking in her dress.

She blushed, laughing, rolling her eyes and moving towards him, unaccustomed to the heavy skirts swirling about her ankles. The gown was simply cut but the cloth was expensive, a heavy velvet brocade with crystal beading woven throughout in the pattern of flowers. The bodice was tight and cut low, frame tightly enough to her body to only hint at the curve of breast it displayed. She had a matching crown like Tamlin and chose to leave her hair loose.

He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, groaning faintly as he smelled the hint of roses there. "You wore it," he commented, looking over her with the barely suppressed hunger of a ravenous male in need of a good rutting.

She smiled, flashing him her teeth, as she plucked her hand from his grip and curled it in the curve of his elbow. "I did. Stop looking at me like that, the answer is no, it was too difficult getting this dress on, let alone taking it off and back on again."

"But I need you," he whispered, grabbing her free hand and boldly shoving it against his arousal, making her struggle to suppress a shiver at feeling that hard length underneath his breeches. She glared at him and he grinned, but she pulled her hand back gently.

"Later," she whispered, and he half-laughed, half-groaned, nodding and urging her to close her eyes. She did so and felt that horrible tug - something she still hadn't learned and was in no hurry to do, letting him winnow them away to the meeting place in question.

"Open your eyes, dearest," he murmured, his tone changing, sounding deeper, colder. He'd warned her many would act this way, as he would, and advised she do the same. When she opened her eyes, she laid that mask in place, keeping her expression schooled as a servant bowed to them from where they stood in an open atrium, the golden rays of dawn shimmering overhead.

"Lord and Lady Spring, Welcome to the Court of Dawn. This way, if you please," replied the nameless servant in a crisp accentless voice. Tamlin said nothing, cupping her hand in his elbow, his other hand covering hers, and marched her towards the double doors down the hall.

She swallowed, looking around at the impressive structure. Unlike Tamlin's court, everything here exuded power. As her eyes focused on the doors up ahead, she realized soon she'd be face to face with the most powerful creatures in the world. Steeling her spine, she looked over at Tamlin, realizing he had been studying her.

 _Ready, love?_ Despite his stoic face, she felt the concern, the love, radiating down the bond.

She did the same, keeping her expression frozen in place like ice, responding in kind.  _As ready as I will ever be. Let's go._

Together, they marched through those doors.


	11. Chapter 11

_Part 4 - High Lady of the Spring Court_

* * *

 

The room was the same they had met in previously, according to Tamlin, but for Shula it was a wholly new experience and she struggled to contain her amazement at the exquisite splendor in the arched meeting space provided by the Court of Dawn. The white colonnades, covered in swathes of blooming wisteria, astounded her. The marbled floor and walls and carved oak chairs covered in various pillows of cream, peach and sand colored fabric were as comfortable as they were regal. When she thought she was overwhelmed, holding Tamlin's elbow with a little more force than before as they walked towards a set of chairs, she noticed the reflection pool in the center of the room and found herself briefly astounded, Inside the pond were schools of lazy koi amidst the reeds of water lilies and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips at the sight.

"Your Lady likes my tastes, I see," murmured a male voice to their side. She turned as Tamlin stilled, meeting the kind eyes of a slender High Fae, dressed in loose silk pants and a golden tunic, seemingly touched by gold himself, his brown hair and eyes sparkling in the rays of dawn that shimmered through the archways of the open atrium they stood in.

"Good day, Lord Thesan," Shula greeted him, instantly recognizing him based off Tamlin's description of the male. He seemed pleased that she knew his name, bowing his head gently, a kind, almost reserved, expression on his face despite the power she sensed contained just barely underneath his skin as the male smiled, taking her free wrist in his hand and kissing the soft skin of her wrist.

"And you must be Shula, Lady of Spring and Tamlin's newly acquired mate, I presume?"

She smoothed the surprise out of her expression that he already knew who she was, nodding her head as he gently released her wrist, studying her with an intensity that would have unnerved her, if Tamlin had not been at her side. She almost asked how he knew her name but then immediately realized Rhysand and Feyre, who had once again prompted the High Court meeting, must have told the others about her ascension as Lady Spring and Tamlin's mate.

"Not just Lady," rumbled Tamlin from her side, drawing Thesan's attention. "High Lady."

Thesan's eyebrows raised as he glanced back at her, that intensity back. She smiled faintly, the action meant to be kind and set him at ease and he smiled back after a brief hesitation.

"I see," Thesan replied gently, turning and motioning for them to step further into the room. So far, they were the only ones to have arrived, it seemed, the only others in the room being large angel-winged creatures Tamlin had told her were Thesan's aerial forces, the Peregryns. One in particular studied her closely and she whispered to Tamlin down the bond.  _Who's that?_

 _Thesan's mate, Tabbris._ Tamlin replied,  _He is also the leader of his aerial forces._

She made a point to meet his gaze when his study of her person flickered across her face. Despite his frightening appearance, clearly powerful and concerned for his mate with her new face in his court, she smiled at him and felt the male's surprise despite the stoicism that remained on his face. After the briefest moment, he nodded his head, the tension in his shoulder somewhat easing.

"I see you've managed to charm Tabbris. Not an easy feat, High Lady Spring," Thesan smiled, settling into a single chair near their matching ones, as they waited for the others. The Peregryn in question moved closer, hovering near his mate's shoulder, and did not respond to the soft tease from the High Lord, but Shula nevertheless knew they meant her no harm. She didn't know how she knew, but they seemed to either consider her not a threat or not a challenge, she wasn't sure which. Still, despite that, the intensity hadn't yet left his eyes as he watched her, but he did his best to temper it, glancing between them both. "Have you told any of the others her status? How fares the Spring Court?"

Tamlin tensed, opening his mouth to say something, when the doors opened, leading several others into the room. Shula and Tamlin didn't rise, as he gently asked her to remain sitting through the bond as the others entered, taking their seats.

First, a tell-tale trail of darkness announcing their presence before anyone caught sight of the couple, came Rhysand and Feyre, dressed in a similar fashion to how she'd seen them before in sapphire-studded dark silk, perhaps a subtle degree more regalness in their similarly styled outfits, a pair of dark-haired winged fae at their back. Feyre smiled at her and Shula forced herself to return the expression, then she watched as the High Lady turned to greet Thesan, who had risen and offered them both greeting in return. Starlight seemed to sparkle briefly off Feyre's mate as Shula studied him, feeling Tamlin's growl in her head, his fingers tightening around her wrist. It still seemed he hadn't forgiven them for arriving unannounced in her presence and she bit back a smile.

 _Now who doesn't like who?_ She teased, feeling his tension ease as a small bark of laughter echoed down the bond towards her.

After they had taken their seats, next came the palest, most painfully beautiful creatures she'd ever seen.  _Kallias and his mate, Viviane,_ Tamlin supplied in her head as she studied the two - High Lord and his Lady of Winter. She tipped her head towards them when they looked at her, Thesan introducing them as High Lord and High Lady of Spring, even overhearing the Night Court's group pause and study them.

 _Why are they staring?_ Shula asked down the bond, turning her head to meet Feyre's stare. She smiled, doing her best to keep it kind, but unable to resist flashing a hint of eyetooth, watching the Winter Court brush past them, taking their seats.

 _You are only the second High Lady to come into existence. Feyre is the first,_ Tamlin replied. Shula let her surprise flicker down the bond and Tamlin gently stroked back his love and acceptance of her title.  _Most High Lords horde power too much,_ he explained.  _Perhaps if they'd realize most females have a keen sense of how to lead a household, they could easily do just as good a job as High Lady._

Before Shula could question him further, a change in the air had her tensing, feeling a crackle of power against her skin. She turned, her eyes seeking out that odd source, and found herself staring across the room at a dark-haired, dark-skinned High Lord with a glittering spiked crown of the sun, realizing it was radiating from  _him._  She stopped breathing for a moment and the male noticed, smirking as his eyes clashed with hers, only pulling them away when Thesan moved to greet him.

 _Helion,_ Tamlin grumbled.  _Stay away from him. I don't like the way he looks at you. His carnal appetites are...notorious._ She could feel him bristling down the bond, one of his talons sliding out to stroke the inside of her wrist as he stared across the atrium at the other High Lord before he took his seat.

Shula risked a glance his way, Tamlin's eyes never leaving Helion as the High Lord inspected them. She shivered, feeling Helion's eyes trail over her, pointedly hovering at her breasts for far longer than was necessary, a growl rippling from Tamlin's throat. She squeezed his wrist and admonished him in the bond as she turned back, staring at Helion with barely suppressed annoyance. Regardless of how attractive he was, his little display decidedly left her unimpressed with his attitude. His grin, followed by a rich bark of laughter, unsettled her but he seemed to ease up, turning to look around the room.

 _Relax, Tamlin. I'm certainly not going to entertain his little antics, if that has you worried. I only need you._ Between her disdainful stare and Helion's release of his inspection of her, Tamlin seemed to ease up at her side, stroking her wrist, his talon slowly easing back into his nail beds.

"High Lady? Of Spring?" Helion spoke, dragging her attention back to the High Lord in question. He grinned, shrugging a shoulder. "I couldn't help but overhear. 'Tis true, then?"

She nodded, saying nothing, hearing the silence descend around the room. He grinned again, noting Tamlin's second growl to ripple from his throat in less than two minutes, tipping his head to the side as he inspected her again - this time as an adversary, equal, and a potential member of the council session before her. Shula grew annoyed with how long he remained silent, realizing he was showing off a little with how he commanded the room while he thought of her nod of acceptance.

"Spit it out, Helion," Growled Tamlin, his talons once more out, gently scraping at the skin of her wrist. "I most likely speak for the rest in this room that we're tired of staring and waiting for you to say whatever's on your mind."

Shula took that moment to look around the room, gaging the reaction of the rest of those gathered. She noted that several seats remained empty and that the Summer and Autumn representatives were still notably absent.

"Just curious where you found such a rare little jewel," Helion drawled, flashing a row of bright teeth against his golden skin, dark eyes glowing with wry mirth. "And you named her High Lady to boot. By all means, please expand on this delightful development for your court for the rest of us. Last time we met, you were Hybern's little errand boy and now...now you're  _this."_

He gestured, indicating the change in Tamlin. Tamlin snarled and Shula placed a hand on his shoulder to reign him back and calm him. She flashed Helion a frown. "Perhaps we should wait for the others? I noticed two courts have yet to appear. There will be plenty of time to talk once they've arrived."

"Eloquent and observant, too. I like her already," Helion smiled back as Shula stared, keeping her expression remote and unaffected to his flirtatious undertones. He looked around the room, noting the stares of the others and rolled his eyes. "Very well."

Tamlin seemed to slowly gain control as they all returned to an awkward state of waiting, Thesan murmuring something to a passing servant to begin bringing out food and drink to fill the time, and she used that time to gently tug on the bond they shared once more.  _Are you alright?_

 _Yes,_  he started, then saw the brief frown she cast his way and he sighed inside her head as he met her stare evenly.  _Fine - no, I'm not. This will be a difficult meeting. My past will be brought up frequently and you will be tainted with it just for being my mate. It's wrong, Shula._ He gently spoke, irritation as well as concern flaring back at her.  _You shouldn't be painted with such a broad brush, colored by my past actions and sins, just because you are mine._

 _We don't care what they think, remember?_ She gently reminded him, squeezing his hand with her own.  _We're here for those people back at the manor. They're the ones that matter, not this. Who cares what another High Lord thinks of you or me? They're not ruling our court, we are. We'll make it through this._

Tamlin smiled then, staring at her, nodding slowly. The bustle of moving servants obscured them partially from the others as they moved about the open space, bringing trays of fruit and drink, and Tamlin took that moment to cup her cheek.  _I love you. I realized I hadn't said it yet today. You amaze me. I love you so very much._

 _And I love you,_ she replied back down the bond, raising her eyes as his hand fell, hearing the double doors open and close once more. It appeared the others had arrived.

The young male fae to enter first surprised her the most, appearing similar to her in countenance, but the inevitable encroachment of jaded experience seemed to be slowly coloring his iridescent blue eyes, which she considered his best feature. His hair, bound in several braids with various jewels, was a pale white-blonde, in stark contrast to his dark mahogany skin tone.  _Tarquin,_ her mind supplied before Tamlin had to.  _High Lord of Summer._ Tamlin rumbled in agreement as they stared.

Behind him were two others of similar coloring, obviously relations of some sort. Those names, Tamlin supplied.  _Cresseida and Varian, Tarquin's siblings and high ranking officials in his court._ They gave them mere cursory glances before finding their seats, murmuring their apologies to Thesan about their tardiness before settling.

Lastly, came Autumn. Lord Beron Vanserra set Shula's stomach on edge with the way he stared with loathing at Tamlin and her in turn, his eyes chips of glass in his face. She remembered Tamlin telling her that the High Lord of Autumn had initially refused to aid the other courts in the war against Hybern and it was Tamlin who'd forced his compliance, dragging him out of his own court by the throat. She couldn't help but flash a small smile of teeth at the older fae as he took his seat, his sons and wife alongside him. He bristled at her smile and tore his gaze towards Tamlin, animosity rolling off him in waves.

 _He has not forgotten what you did,_ Shula murmured down the bond, still staring at the angry High Lord across from them.  _Will that be a problem?_

 _Not if he values his life,_ Tamlin growled softly down the bond, his green eyes clashing against Beron's brown ones. He grinned, his fangs extending, and only then did Beron look away as Thesan cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming. Lord and Lady Night once more requested this meeting to deal with the lack of a barrier amongst the fae and mortals of the continent below and the re-negotiations of the treaty we hold with them, given the actions of the mortal queens in the war against Hybern." Just the mention of her queen had Shula's gut turning cold and hard, both from anger and disgust, as she studied the Lord of Dawn. He looked about the room, then gestured to Rhysand and Feyre, turning to settle into his chair. "I'll give the floor to them to discuss what they'd like to meet on today, and…"

"What's  _she_ doing here?" Hissed Beron, sliding forward slightly in his seat to jab at finger at Shula, interrupting Thesan's words. Silence descended like a knife through the room and several heads, including hers, turned abruptly and stared at the Lord of Autumn. "And on equal footing with the bastard that betrayed us? In fact, why is Spring even  _here?_ Their court is in ruins, they have no people, they should have no voice."

Shula tensed and she heard Tamlin's growl that ripped from his throat at Beron's venomous words, but it was Rhysand who interrupted the Autumn Lord's tirade, surprising her. She clutched Tamlin's arm to keep him from launching from his seat, feeling his fury rise like fire along her skin.  _Ignore him, Tamlin. He means nothing, remember?_ Still, she could feel that rage in Tamlin roiling, barely contained, ready to be released at the slightest provocation.

"Because I invited her," Rhysand drawled, looking boredly in the direction of Beron, perhaps sensing how sensitive Tamlin would be in this meeting and trying to draw a semblance of calm to those gathered. Her eyes drifted around the room before settling back on Rhysand, seeing various states of tense wariness in each of those gathered. "She is Tamlin's mate, his court and his power is very much intact, despite outward appearances, and she is his High Lady." He grinned faintly, seeing Beron tense and look sharply back at her. "Now that all that's been answered, shall we continue to the reason we're  _really_  here?"

"Is every blithering female you boys manage to stick your pricks into going become a High Lady?" Barked Beron, sneering in Shula's direction, his harsh laughter skirting along her insides like a knife blade as his eyes skated over her form with distaste. "What other claims does she have to bear such a title, past being Tamlin's little whore?"

That time, Shula wasn't able to stop him, as Tamlin launched himself across the room and dug his talons into Beron's throat faster than she could blink, only his explosion of a roar all that gave warning of his actions. The older High Lord gagged and Shula rose, shouting at Tamlin to stop. She noted wildly that none of the other High Lords seemed too moved to stop him, noting Tamlin paused just short of killing the Autumn Lord, raising a hand towards the others to silence them before they could speak, his talons deeply embedded in Beron's throat, blood welling and coating the Autumn Lord's court attire.

They seemed unconcerned and simply watched the scene play out. She was at a loss for what to say and how to react, having never seen so much immediate violence in her life.  _Are they all like this? Monsters just masquerading as men?_ She wondered, as she stared, closing her mouth, drawing on the same mask of indifference the others shared. She certainly didn't pity the High Lord in Tamlin's grip, only wanted Tamlin to calm so the others wouldn't immediately assume his old ways were still his predominant way of thinking and handling things, remembering how well he'd done with the refugees back home.

As she studied the others, the more she began to see them that way, given how coolly they responded to the sudden display of brutality in front of them. She remembered Tamlin calling himself one and at that moment, it seemed an appropriate label for  _all_  of the creatures present in this atrium, sipping on the wine and other delights offered before Beron's insult had sent Tamlin into a keen rage and close to strangling the life from his very windpipes, watching with a detached coldness that left her feeling hollow and disgusted at what the cauldron had turned her into.

 _I will never truly be one of them,_ she realized.  _And thank the gods for that._

Turning her eye back towards Tamlin, she tried to gage the control on his temper, gently reaching for him in the bond. Pure unfiltered rage met her attempts, directed at the male in front of him, but she noted Tamlin seemed mostly in control.

She got the sensation he was asking her to trust him, so she did, sinking back into her chair, watching Tamlin growl and drag everyone's attention back to the situation at hand. Perhaps this little show of power would make the others think twice about insulting the Spring Court, so she allowed it, saying nothing aloud or down the bond, simply settling in to observe like the others.

"Strong words for a High Lord who wouldn't even help defend his lands against Hybern when it came down to it, you coward. Let me make myself q _uite_  clear - and pay attention, as I'll only say this once - If you insult my mate like that again,  _ever,_  I will drag you out of here by your throat like I did in front of your whole court that day but  _this_  time, I won't stop until I  _kill_ you.  _Do you understand?"_

The lethal sound of Tamlin's guttural threat had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, the strength of that promise palpable enough she shivered. He'd never used a tone so vicious, not even when Feyre and Rhysand had showed their faces in his lands unannounced. The entire room seemed to pause, even the other High Lords appearing surprised at the venom of Tamlin's words.

Even his sons, including the one she knew labeled as Eris, said nothing. Beron continued to struggle, gurgling some vicious response that was no doubt meant to insult her, and Tamlin's grip grew strong enough she saw Beron finally pale and nod rapidly as he struggled to breathe.

When Tamlin's grip eased and he stood, brushing the wrinkles out of his attire, all that could be heard in the room was Beron's harsh choking gasps of air. His face was mottled with fury, but as he looked towards the others, realizing he would get no aide, he fell silent and Tamlin came over to return to his seat at Shula's side, taking her hand in his and kissing her palm, green eyes flashing gold as he stared in Beron's direction. The others stared their way after sharing scornful glares at Beron, seemingly studying them in a new light. Shula cleared her throat, offering them a faint unapologetic smile.

"Well, given  _that_  introduction, I suppose it's only fair I speak now," she drawled, eliciting several smiles and chuckles from the others as Tamlin once more took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"My name is Shula Gallagher and the reason you've never heard of me is I wasn't always High Fae," she murmured, catching Feyre's shoulders tensing. She nodded in her direction. "From what I've gathered from those I've spoken with in the Spring Court, I'm…'Made,' if that's the proper term, not unlike High Lady Night." She looked around as the others shifted, their eyes taking in her form suddenly, and she made sure to show no fear, keeping her posture erect but at ease, gently squeezing Tamlin's hand, letting them know without words  _whose_  side she was on at the end of the day, despite how wary she was to have so many eyes on her in this room, with these people and their power. The warmth of emotion from Tamlin's side of the bond gave her the courage to keep going. "I'll spare you all the gory details and just say - I was cast in that pit of hell and came out like this."

She gestured to herself and continued.

"From there, I was secluded in a cell, somewhere in the Spring Court, not long after it fell," she let her eyes drift back to Feyre, letting a brief flicker of disdain flash in her eyes, surprised to see a scald of pink creep up the female's face, her eyes averting in guilt, letting Feyre know what she thought of her actions against the court, Tamlin's notable bad past behavior notwithstanding, "since it was weak and the power vacuum created there after its fall made it easy for Hybern and those Mortal Queens, including mine who fed me to that thing, to take control. I was held in a faebane-laced cell, where I nearly starved to death, until Tamlin freed me. Since then, we've bonded and helped free others still suffering under either the mortal queens' rule or the remaining warbands of Hybern. They're at Tamlin's manor, even now, doing their best to set it to rights and offer it as a sanctuary of sorts for the downtrodden below what was once the wall and his lands."

She shifted in her seat, smoothing her skirts, waiting for them to say something. When they didn't, she chose to continue, looking each High Lord in question in the eye except for Autumn, ignoring him all together. "I don't know much about your kind, never saw the reason to learn. I was mortal, I lived well below the wall, and for all the frightening myths of your kind, never expected to encounter one, let alone  _become_ one - yet here we are. I'm not some fancy noble, I don't come from some prestigious background, nor would I label myself particularly smart or well-taught, but I  _do_  know how to listen and observe and that's taught me a few things about your kind."

She turned her head, narrowing her gaze at Beron, before glancing about at the others. What she said next was dangerous, but she figured she would lay all the cards on the table, cart blanche, and let the chips fall where they may. "I would like to start my role in this court and Tamlin's as a High Lady of complete honesty, so pardon the bluntness when I say that what I  _have_ seen leaves me far less impressed than I'd like to admit."

She shifted her gaze to Feyre, starting there first. "High Lady Night - When you chose to demonstrate your wrath on the Lord of Spring, you forgot about all those faces sheltered under that banner that would suffer when he did. My mate did  _terrible_  things, things that - had me done them to me, I'm pretty sure I would have beat him bloody, castrated him, then killed him and left the body to the elements if I could -" She paused and grinned back at Tamlin, who looked both shocked and embarrassed at her words, but said nothing, denied nothing, giving merit to his misdeeds of the past, making her proud he owned those mistakes rather than excusing them away as so many often did.

She glanced back at Feyre, who looked as stunned as her mate, continuing on in that stupefied silence that she created in the room "-but what I struggle to understand, given your title, where you came from, as once one of those  _little people_ , as it were, that you'd do something so careless without measure of concern for them. We found them, those forgotten faces of the Spring Court, in war camps, being abused, being raped and tortured, being forced out of their houses…. _and yet_ , I saw no other house banners there, offering aide, only Tamlin, by himself, trying to right that wrong."

She glanced at the others and saw no remorse, making her chuckle and shake her head at their arrogance. "So, tell me,  _truly_ , how is Tamlin any  _less_  worthy than any of you to be here? Did he not drag Autumn to the war in the end? Did he not aide Feyre and her mate when they needed it most? Has he not proven his remorse at his choices by freeing people - like me - from those who had just tried to end your collective way of life? What have  _you_  been doing for the state of the world since the war? Looking after your people? If your people are fit and healthy, did you even  _bother_  to ask the others how  _theirs_  were?"

She looked around the room, feeling the tension in the air rising as their gazes turned sharp, but continued, ignoring Tamlin's brief flare of warning. "You say you come here to start discussions of peace, yet I see no peace on your faces. I see resentment, long-nurtured old grudges, and lack of understanding of how your past problems that got you here to begin with. Why…" She laughed, gesturing to Feyre, "From what I understand,  _this woman_ had to single-handedly save your entire species while she was still human because you  _all_  managed to get enthralled to a spiteful general of Hybern's despite all the power and intelligence you claim to have. Impressed? I think not, but...hopeful. Hopeful that finally,  _maybe_ , after all this godsdamned bloodshed, you're  _finally_ willing to really  _listen_ to each other - to those you rule over as well, giving them a much-deserved voice in this meeting and the others to come - and finally fucking  _change things_."

Utter silence greeted the end of her speech and she slid her eyes towards Tamlin, wary of his reaction, as he'd gone utterly silent. Pride shone in his eyes and love drifting down towards her in the bond in such heavy waves, she felt like she might drown under those beautiful emotions. She flushed, then stilled again as she heard a voice disrupt the silence in the room.

"Well hell," drawled Rhysand. "She stole my thunder."

The other High Lords began to laugh and Shula tentatively offered a shy smile in response. The tension in the room seemed to suddenly evaporate and they all ignored Beron's continued glower from his side of the room.

With the worries she would feel for this meeting gone, she squeezed Tamlin's hand and focused as they started to discuss the state of things to come.

* * *

 

"Tamlin, Shula - may we have a word?"

They both turned, from where they'd been about to head towards the double doors, to their suite of rooms Thesan had demanded they take, the meeting taking so long that night had descended, so they could start back to the Spring Court manor in the morning. Shula looked surprised to see Feyre and Rhysand standing there, staring at her with mirrored expressions of approval and surprise, offering her and Tamlin both tentative smiles.

She felt Tamlin tense, but sensed no animosity off him, only wariness, and smiled back. "Yes, High Lady Night?"

"Feyre, please," the female replied, grinning faintly. "We'd like to see if you'd accompany us to dinner. Helion, Rhysand, I and the others…" She gestured behind them, pointing to her entourage, who mingled about the room with the other court figures present, their eyes trailing over towards them as Feyre gestured their way, "...were planning to gather in our suite and I wanted to see if you both would join us. What you said…"

Feyre stepped forward, taking Shula's hand gently in her own. "It moved me," She murmured, offering another smile. "I want what you want, Shula. Let's talk, away from others like Beron, where we can perhaps be freer with words. Say you'll come?"

Her eyes flickered to both Tamlin and herself and Shula looked to Tamlin to see what he felt about the request, the bond having gone silent. He frowned, glancing at her, but nodded. "Very well. When?"

"An hour, it'll allow everyone to freshen up. This has been a long meeting, and I for one want out of these clothes," Feyre responded, making Shula laugh. When Feyre looked her way, she rolled a shoulder in amusement.

"I'm so glad I am not the only one who hates fine dresses," she finally admitted, hearing the men chuckle. She grimaced, tugging at her skirts. " _What?_ They're heavy and they itch."

Feyre grinned, then briefly sobered. "I wanted to - I  _want_ to apologize. For what I did. I know I made mistakes, not unlike you did Tamlin. We both made  _so many mistakes,_  I…" She trailed off, looking over at Rhysand, who'd gone as silent as Tamlin, a contemplative expression on his face. "Perhaps we can offer some goods, or some kind of labor force, to help set the Spring Court back to rights."

Shula blinked, surprised at the offer. She smiled at Feyre's hopefully expression, clearly feeling guilt for what she'd done, looking to Tamlin. "I believe that's your decision, Lord Spring. Do you accept? And what do  _you_ have to say?"

Tamlin smiled faintly, his cheeks scalding pink not unlike what Feyre's did during Shula's explosive first statement, forcing her to bite the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. "I - hell, there's nothing I can say that'll ever right what I did. I'm grateful you found Rhysand to piece you together after I horribly broke your trust and your confidence," he murmured, frowning, looking saddened briefly beyond words, but finally smiled, curling a hand around Shula's waist. "But - do I regret it? What I did to you, perhaps, but not the outcome. We both found who we were meant to be with, I suppose. It doesn't make it okay, it doesn't amend the past, but maybe...just maybe...one day we can be friends again. I accept your offer, High Lady Night."

Feyre swallowed and simply nodded.

Rhysand had said nothing through this, wearing an immobile mask of boredom, and Shula took the opportunity to call him out, seeing his gaze focus on her once she spoke his name. "And  _you_ , High Lord of Night - shall I be allowed to call you friend? I understand the past between you and my mate. I would never ask for your forgiveness, or demand it out of my mate for what yours did to his, but perhaps you and I, with no waters and bridges to be wary of - I can trust we can be honest with one another and form a two-way communication that's free of the centuries of bullshit amongst your courts?"

Rhysand stared at her and she felt his shadowed hand against her temple like she did before, only this time with no trace of phantom claws. She let him look, holding his gaze, feeling Tamlin only slightly tense before he finally smiled and dipped his head. "You know...I'd like that."

She smiled, hearing their names being called from across the room, Tamlin taking that opportunity to wheel her out of the atrium, a silent servant gesturing for them to follow, as he led them towards the suite they were to stay in before leaving tomorrow, to prepare for dinner with the Night and Summer Court representatives.

Once inside, Tamlin slammed the door shut, warded it, then spun her to face him, dragging her tightly up against his body, his mouth seeking hers.

She gasped in surprise, then laughter, followed quickly by a moan, as his hands made quick work of her dress, feeling it flutter to the floor, only for his hands to massage her nipples to tight crested peaks in his palms.

"Gods, you were  _magnificent_ , just like I thought you'd be," he rasped, his lips dropping as he went to his knees, his hands eagerly parting her folds, finding that stretch of spongy soft skin, his mouth and tongue sealing around it, lashing it with his tongue. He finished his declaration through the bond as he cradled her hips against his face, lapping at her clit with enthusiasm.  _You had me hard through most of that speech. Gods, I wanted to take you out of there, do this - yes, Shula, come for me, come against my tongue, right now…_

She'd begun to lose control of her response as his praise rambled on her head, his mouth working her clit so expertly, she shook with the effort to hold herself back. At his insistence she let go, she groaned, struggling to hold herself upright, and exploded in sharp agonizing waves against his mouth. He growled, lapping up her orgasm eagerly, settling her gently on the ground when her legs finally gave out, spreading her knees wide to make room for his shoulders as he used his hands to keep her splayed open, continuing to feast.

 _Gods, I need to…_ He quickly shifted up, clashing his mouth against hers, viciously freeing himself from his breeches, only to thrust inside her seconds later, setting a hard and fast pace. Shula moaned, tasting herself on his lips, as he fucked her in earnest, drawing out another orgasm just as she heard his long groan of pain, his features briefly shifting, eyes golden and fangs lethal, as he convulsed atop her, releasing his cock of its burden, buried deep, spurting in hot quick succession with the rapid kick of his cock from inside her - one after another after another - until they began to move again, seeking one last explosive release to satiate themselves until the true evening came, after the dinner, after the last conversation, and they could once more hold each other, be  _inside_ each other, and struggle to continue to blend their souls together as one again.

He rolled, trying not to crush her with his weight, cradling her atop him as they finally sagged, catching their breathes.

"Are you really ready for this? We might come out of this meeting with an alliance with Night and Day, at least I hope so. We need the support, if we're going to return Spring to its former glory, regardless of how you feel about Helion or Feyre or Rhysand personally. Do you trust me to do the right thing, Tamlin?" She murmured, stroking his hair, not willing to remove himself from her, keeping him buried and close. "I meant what I said in that room with the others, Tamlin. I'm just some cook's assistant hoping she knows what the hell she's doing in the long run. Being green might hurt us in the end."

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you and my court happy and safe. I love you and I trust you, Shula. Your heart is purer than most and your meaning is so well-placed, even if it does inadvertently invite drama into our home, I could never hold it against you. Let's hear them out. You did say we need to let go of the past and change for the future, right? So, let's do that, let's take that leap of faith. I trust you with my whole being." Tamlin pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She smiled, snuggling closer, then looked up at the clock by the bed. She groaned. "We should get ready. I hope you didn't rip the buttons on my dress."

He grinned and kissed her temple. "We'll work something out, love."

 


	12. Chapter 12

The rooms designated for the Night Court were very similar to their own, only larger to accommodate the size of their entourage. The rooms were still carved out of white marble, the decor simple yet elegant, decorated in flowers and various colored crystals. A large table had been prepared for the dinner to come and by the sheer number of settings, Shula found herself wondering who else would be attending this so-called private event.

As they were shown to the sitting room down the hall where the other guests had been gathered in a room strewn with padded chairs and silk-covered chaise lounges, Shula was shocked to see nearly every court present but Autumn and Dawn. She drew to a standstill beside Tamlin, feeling his similar non-verbal response echo down the bond as they stepped into the room, drawing the eyes of several as they entered.

Most had already changed to something less formal but for once, Shula was grateful to be the one over-dressed. With so many eyes on her, the gown felt like a much-needed second skin against the prying eyes of the other High Lords present.

"You came," Feyre murmured, making Shula turn. She hesitated to admonish her in front of the others, simply allowing her eyes to sweep around the room before resettling on Feyre. The woman smiled, shrugging a shoulder, an unapologetic look in her eye. "They were curious. Dawn is not present since Thesan did not want to show favoritism, given it's his court holding the council meeting. Autumn...well, should be obvious." Her eyes flickered towards Tamlin and Shula felt something odd exchange between the two of them before Feyre once more looked her way.

"Tamlin, may I have a word?" Tarquin appeared out of seemingly nowhere, while Shula tried her best to come up with an acceptable reply to Feyre. He looked over at Feyre, who smiled plainly at the Summer Lord, noting the High Lord did not return the expression.  _Odd. There is resentment and past complications still causing tension there. Should I ask what it is?_

Tamlin glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but his concern was evident down the bond.  _Will you be alright? This is not what I expected. We can leave if you want._

 _No, go ahead. I'll be fine._ She released Tamlin's arm, allowing him to trail off behind Tarquin, his eyes briefly glancing to Feyre and hers before finding Rhysand standing with his sentries across the room, also silently observing the mingling High Ladies.

"Now that I have you all to myself, let's go out onto the balcony, for some fresh air," Feyre murmured, drawing Shula's attention back towards her. She nodded and moved with Feyre, who had changed into a black silk dress, not too unsimilar to her own, but with less heavy embroidery.

Once outside, they took a few minutes to appreciate the view, their eyes roaming across the horizon of Thesan's impressive holdings.

"It's beautiful here," Shula commented, just to fill the silence. "What is your court like?"

"I suppose it depends on which you're referring to," Feyre replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. At Shula's blank stare, Feyre grinned and quickly apologized, reaching out and placing a hand on her forearm as she turned to pull away. She knew she did not know much about the fae lands but hadn't expected that obvious flaw to be teased about so quickly yet again after Beron's rude demand in the council session earlier. "Sorry, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I know you're new to this whole world. I should do as you mentioned earlier, try and remember where I came from...once."

Shula frowned, seeing the rapid change of emotions flicker across Feyre's face. She was at least grateful that Feyre had dropped the mask she had worn earlier in the atrium. "Why did you want to meet with me, Feyre?"

The longer Feyre took to respond, the more obvious the answer became. Shula blinked, struggling to contain her laugh, as she watched the High Lady who, from all accounts she heard, was a fierce woman in her own right, look visibly uncomfortable. "Are you trying to ask me if Tamlin has harmed me? If so, the answer is no."

Feyre suddenly met her eyes, her own gleaming brightly, her expression harsh. Shula tensed but did not take offense, this time laying her own hand against Feyre's like she had done to her. "It's my turn to apologize, I suppose. I didn't mean to make light of what you went through. Tamlin told me all the ugly truths about what he did. He has not done any of them to me, but...thank you for asking, I suppose. Most wouldn't."

She turned her head, giving the woman a brief reprieve from her stare. "He was honest about your sordid past, before I came here. He told me everything. I hold no illusions for what he has been before I met him but I choose to believe he's left that in the past. If he were to become that again, I would hold him just as accountable as anyone else. I think that's why fate brought us together…." She looked back at Feyre, watching the woman observe her with both fascination and wariness. "...I can help keep the so-called 'monster' in him at bay. Isn't that the same with you and your High Lord? I've heard the stories about him as well and not all of them are pretty."

She let her eyes drift behind them, across the room in question, where Tamlin mingled with the others, seeing Rhysand's eyes on them, even from such a distance and with others distracting him with talk. When she looked back at Feyre, she saw the woman briefly smile before looking back her way.

"I suppose you're right," She finally commented, studying her with the same level of intensity that Thesan had used before. This time, she was prepared, and it made her less uncomfortable.

"Why don't you just look? Why did you ask?" She blurted out before she could stop herself, making Feyre still. She shrugged a shoulder, unconcerned as the woman's eyes flashed dangerously. "I know what you can do. It was told to me what you are, what your mate is. You've done it once, at that creek, and your mate did it before we left the council session." She felt Feyre jerk, smirking, realizing he hadn't told her.  _So not everything is shared between you two at all times, I see. Interesting._ "I don't mind as long as you don't try and plant anything again. That was...uncomfortable. I'm sad to say I'm a rather boring read, as it were though. What you see is what you get." She motioned to herself.

"You should not be so open, High Lady Spring," Feyre warned, her tone sharp. "It will hurt you one day. It does seem you're slightly resistant to daemati powers, but you should not offer things like that so lightly."

Shula shrugged a shoulder with a small smile. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong. It's a lesson I'd rather learn the hard way, at any rate. I've seen how jaded your courts and your people are and I'd like to think of myself as human still, at least in the ways that matter here." She tapped her breastbone, looking back to where Tamlin talked still with Tarquin. As he talked, he paused, his eyes shifting towards hers, softening.

She looked back at Feyre, then glanced at the horizon once more, saying nothing. It was Feyre that broke the silence.

"You really love him, don't you?" She murmured, the tone soft - a mixture of relief, acceptance, and a small tinge of sadness.

"I do. With my whole being," She replied back, looking towards Feyre, who was still looking over her shoulder towards those gathered. She didn't know who she stared at - Tamlin? Rhysand? - but when she finally looked back in Shula's direction, she seemed somehow unburdened.

"Now, enough of the past and more of the future," Shula smiled, deciding to steer the conversation towards something more pleasant. "What did you have in mind exactly when you said you wanted the same thing I did?"

Feyre smiled and nodded, launching into a rapt discussion of ideas to bridge the gap between the Spring Court's current state and what it needed to recover.

* * *

 

"You are a lucky male," Tarquin commented, catching Tamlin studying Shula on the balcony with Feyre. He tensed, his eyes moving back to the young High Lord in question. The male smiled, glancing at Shula.

"I am," he responded slowly to Tarquin's measured grin.

He wouldn't admit how uncomfortable it made him, watching his past lover converse with his mate. The few times they'd glanced his way and he caught her eye, he felt an odd stirrings of emotions from her side of the bond. It made him anxious to leave, to take them back to the privacy of their rooms, and demand she tell him what they discussed all while being allowed to bury himself in her so deep, she would stay there,  _forever._

"She spoke quite honestly in the council session. She's a spirited thing. Not unlike Feyre once was, but in a kinder, more open fashion. I like her," Tarquin supplied further, looking back at Shula for a moment before glancing at Tamlin, noting his tense shoulders. "I only hope fate looks on me so kindly in the end."

"I know what you're thinking," Tamlin growled softly. Tarquin's eyebrows raised. "That I don't deserve her. That I'm a monster masquerading about in a fae's skin. That I'm once a betrayer, always a betrayer. She's…" He paused, surprised to see Tarquin laying a hand on his shoulder, interrupting his bitter statement.

"Feyre came to my court, before the war, with Rhysand. I won't lie, I did ask if what the rumors about you were saying were true, that you locked her away…" Tarquin noticed Tamlin bristle, offering a kind smile. "Despite that past part of your relationship I am now privy to, I didn't realize at the time she came seeking something of mine that she had no right to take, but she did it anyways, after subjecting me to her perceptible powers. She charmed me, made a fool of me, then left, stinging my pride worse than my court - all of her own free will. It was then I learned a small token of what it might have been like to be in your shoes when Rhsyand took her from you." Tarquin spoke honestly, his eyes drifting over towards the High Lord of Night, who still spoke lowly with his sentries, Cassian and Azriel, the two Illyrians across the room, their dark leathery-wings pressed tightly against the backs, like ever-present shadows.

Tamlin blinked in surprise, studying Tarquin curiously. Tarquin looked back at him and simply shrugged a shoulder, his white-blonde braids swinging softly with the action, his dark expression kind, almost understanding. "Your new mate is honest to a fault, at least for now, and while some may consider that a curse rather than a blessing, I for one admire it. If you need assistance from the Summer Court, do not hesitate to ask. Not just for her, but for you. I don't believe you're the monster they claim you are, Lord Spring."

Tamlin had no response to give Tarquin, so when the male murmured his regrets that he couldn't stay for dinner and headed towards the door, his entourage following, he simply stared. Unable to stomach the other's stares, knowing they were most likely not as kind as Tarquin's had been, he moved towards the bar, alone, to search for a much-needed drink.

* * *

 

"You believe this shit?" Cassian hissed to Rhysand and Azriel, watching Tamlin pour himself a healthy dose of bourbon. "Am I the only one thinking Beron wasn't entirely wrong in his statement? After what he did to Feyre - to  _Nesta,_ " The Illyrian warrior growled, his dark eyes flashing brightly with fury, leathery wings rustling in barely-suppressed anger, as he watched the High Lord down the first cup, only to pour himself another quickly after the first. He barely bit back a snort. "At least he looks as nervous as he probably feels, the bastard. Serves him right, the arrogant…"

"Calm yourself, Cassian," Rhysand interjected smoothly, effectively cutting off his friend's rant. Despite how much distaste he held for the male, he knew they needed him. "He's the only thing separating  _us_  from the mortals below and they vastly outnumber us,  _General_. So put your opinions to the side and just  _watch him like I asked you to._ "

Cassian snarled but didn't say anything further, all three staring at the High Lord as he drank yet another glass. Cassian's lips peeled back from his face in a macabre mimic of a smile when Tamlin finally looked their way, only to cast his gaze away once more, but not before it flashed golden in warning. "I bet you a round back home that he gets drunk and does something stupid and saves us all the trouble of pretending he has it together. Just  _watch_."

"She does, though. Holds it together, that is. I normally wouldn't say this, but for once, Spring produced something I admire," Azriel commented quietly, looking towards the red-haired female talking with Feyre out on the balcony. Rhysand said nothing, staring at the two women, despite something briefly flickering in the depths of his amethyst gaze while he beheld his mate with the newcomer that Cassian was too well-trained to ignore. He groaned, rolling his eyes, looking over at the female in question.

She was pretty and young and so crushingly naive he took an immediate dislike to her - but he held a modicum of respect for the way she tongue-lashed all the High Lords in that other room so thoroughly.

"She's alright," he finally muttered, shifting his gaze around the room, looking for Morrigan, ignoring Azriel's snort of amusement. The blonde fae and their other companion and high official in the Night Court, Amren, hadn't joined them in the council session, only coming in that evening after seeing to things back home in Velaris, and he wondered idly where they were. "Where's Mor and Am? Don't see them about. We can always count on those two to set the tension high in the room. I'm bored, let's stir the pot a little, now that the hoighty-toighty meeting with manners is over."

"They're not coming," Rhysand interjected again, surprising Cassian, his eyes having not moved off Feyre and Shula on the balcony.

He looked over at the High Lord incredulously. " _What?_ Why?"

Rhysand flicked his gaze briefly at Cassian before looking back at the two women talking across the way. "Business needs back at the Court of Nightmares and because I asked them to. They're handling it for me, this was more important. Besides, Eris was here. After what happened last time, I…"

"Well, for starters, sounds like you might be off the hook on that," Cassian replied, glancing back at Tamlin, who had slowed once he started in on his third round.  _Damn,_ he thought.  _That could have been fun poking at his beast._ "Sounded pretty clear to me that Beron still has a hard on for Tamlin and what he did to get him to join in the fight. Pretty positive we could easily persuade  _him_  to end that asshole, if you like. Wouldn't take much, with the death glares he was giving Tamlin's new pretty mate and all."

Rhysand glanced over at Tamlin, noting the man's obvious discomfort, then brushed past Cassian and Azriel both, heading his way. Cassian glanced at Azriel, who said nothing as usual, and Cassian sighed, settling himself in for a boring night.

 _I should have just stayed home,_ he groused inside his head.  _Even Nesta's bitchiness is preferable to this sugary-sweet boring ass meeting. So much for a fun evening._

* * *

 

"You should slow down."

Tamlin didn't even bother looking up from his glass as he sipped at the contents of the cup, his talons springing loose as the High Lord of Night neared. He saw Winter and Day briefly pause in their discussions, eyeing them, as Rhysand sat down beside him.

"And you should stop pretending you give a rat's ass about me or my court," Tamlin growled in response. "Go away, Rhysand. I don't want or need your  _advice._ "

"Our mates are conversing civilly, is it so impossible that we can't do the same?" Rhysand drawled, but Tamlin didn't miss the subtle hissing of the male's words, the underlying threat quite there. He didn't even bother replying after that, in no mood for Rhysand's favored word swordplay.

"You found Hybern loyalists in your wood," Rhysand finally stared in again. Tamlin grunted, draining his glass. Rhysand turned, glaring at him. "And they were organized?"

"Yes, and yes," Tamlin barked, glaring at him. "Go see for yourself if you don't believe me. I've scattered most of them now but found a few missives when we rescued the victims. They're back at my court."

"I'm concerned that those loyalists still pose a problem," Rhysand finally admitted, drawing the attention of Winter and Day as Kallias and Helion drew close, joining them. Even the two Illyrian warriors seemed to draw closer, anticipating a heated exchange of words. Only Feyre and Shula remained outside, Tamlin noted, engrossed in their own private conversation on the balcony.

"How so?" Asked Helion, stealing Tamlin's bottle, pouring himself a cup. Tamlin said nothing, merely watching the others.

"Without Hybern, it is very much like the state of the Spring Court...or it what it was," Rhysand drawled, noting Tamlin's bristling at his side. He flashed Tamlin a hint of eyetooth before looking at the others. "While I don't think we'll have someone as powerful as Hybern to worry about…"

"You're afraid someone will take his place, seek revenge," Tamlin supplied, catching on to what Rhysand was suggesting. The High Lord arched an eyebrow but nodded. He huffed faintly. "Not sure what you'd like me to do about it, Rhysand. I can barely afford to shelter my own people. All I can offer is to let you know if more troops mass in my courts, when I'm able to roam the countryside."

" _You_ roam the countryside? Only  _you_? Where are your sentries? Your soldiers?" Kallias asked, surprise flickering across his face.

Tamlin simply laughed, the sound grating.

"I'm not sure if Shula was descriptive enough, but my estate is all but gone, my court is in shambles. I still hold power, I still have a home, but I have no sentries, no protected borders...not anymore. Not after Feyre's little campaign." Tamlin didn't miss the subtle hiss of warning from Rhysand but ignored him. Whether the High Lord wanted to admit it or not, he spoke the truth, and the others glanced his way with a frown, as Tamlin continued. "The people I'm sheltering are not warriors, they're victims. I'm not about to ask  _them_ to take up weapons and ride off with a High Lord they can barely stand to look at to defend a border they don't care about in the first place.  _Why,_ Kallias? Offering me some of your people? To what end? Will I trust any of you, only to walk away with a knife in my back?"

"That's rich, coming from the one who allied with Hybern in the first place, spitting on his own people," growled Rhysand, his eyes narrowing.

Tamlin bristled. "Says the male who's done nothing the past century and more painting himself as Amarantha's right hand man and a monster for all to see - the same male who, while toting that title, stole away my then-bride, leaving me with little else to assume but that she was being tortured by the hands of a monster."

"Monster? Oh no, I think you're mistaking me for you, Tamlin," Rhysand taunted back, seemingly pleased when Tamlin wasn't able to calm himself in time to avoid his talons sinking out or his fangs elongating in his mouth. Only from Shula's soft hint of warning in the bond, did his eyes not flash golden in warning.

"Boys, let's not do this, alright?" Feyre's voice interjected coolly, Shula at her side. He briefly heard Cassian groan in annoyance from the corner of the room and Feyre cast him an annoyed glance before looking back at those still gathered. "I  _mean it._  Let's try things from Shula's perspective and suggestion, shall we? Let go of the past, let's work on the future."

Rhysand didn't drop Tamlin's gaze and Tamlin was too proud to back down, easily keeping his green eyes clashed with his purple ones.  _This is not all on me, High Lord of Night._ He sneered in his head, waiting until Rhysand finally looked back towards his mate, only to slowly relax.  _Not by a long shot._

He caught Shula's concerned expression and gently shrugged a shoulder.  _What did you expect, sweet?_

 _Not much else,_ she admitted, coming to his side as Feyre spoke.  _I'm proud of you, by the way._  When he looked her way in surprise, she smiled, clasing his hand in hers.  _You didn't lose control of your temper, despite all that was said. That's good, Tamlin. That's very good._

"Will that work for you, Shula?" Murmured Feyre, interrupting their internal conversation.

Shula looked back at the others, her cheeks turning pink. "Pardon?"

Feyre smiled, pointing at the others, and Tamlin noticed Helion was unusually quiet, staring at Shula with too much curiosity. Despite his hackles raising, he remained seated, only briefly catching the male's stare, giving him a subtle warning to back off. Helion smirked, moving his attention along to Feyre.

"Winter will supply provisions. Day and Night offer soldiers to protect the borders and run scouting expeditions through the forest so you two may focus on the state of the manor, the visible eye of the court." Feyre explained again. "And I will speak with Tarquin about letting those know who came from Tamlin's court that it is safe to return."

Shula looked at Tamlin.  _What do you think?_

 _I think we have no choice. We need the help, regardless._ He replied, looking back at the others. "We accept."

"Good, now that that's over, can we finally eat? I'm starving," Grumbled Helion, rising when a servant stepped into the room, announcing dinner was ready.

They all chuckled and rose, moving into the other room to eat.

* * *

 

Dinner was a quiet affair, only a few words being spoken as soon as the meal was served. It gave Shula plenty of time to study the High Lords still present - Rhysand and his mate, Feyre; Kallias and his oddly-quiet mate, Viviane; Helion, daring to meet her gaze and grin as her eyes flickered past his dinner spot; lastly spotting the two winged-fae from before, who seemed to hover at Rhysand's side like a second shadow.

"What is it you two do, if you don't mind me asking?" She called out, shattering the silence outside of the clink of spoons and other utensils used to consume the admittedly delicious meal in front of them. "You're part of the Night Court...and yet you look different than all the others." She motioned to the wings at the backs. "Are you not High Fae?"

They briefly glanced at each other in amusement, then at Rhysand, who subtly nodded. "We're Illyrians, your Ladyship," supplied the long-haired and notably less reserved one, giving her a grin too close to predatorial to be considered friendly. Nevertheless, she knew he meant her no harm and watched, fascinated, as he lifted one side of his hair and showed her a curved ear, making her still.

"Oh my, you're very...unique," She supplied, finally coming up with a word as suitable reply as she struggled to react to what he showed her, receiving a small chorus of chuckles from around the table. "So you're not High Fae, yet clearly powerful." She let her eyes roam over the warrior in front of her, noting the siphon stones at his wrists. "What are those?"

"They're used to harness and channel my power," Cassian replied, as if he was speaking with a child. To her, perhaps he was. She pinked slightly but didn't apologize for her questions. They all knew she was new to their world, their way of things. She didn't even bother asking how old they all were, realizing they had  _centuries_  on her.

"You have so many," She commented at his siphon stones, hearing Helion's bark of laughter before Cassian could reply, glancing his way.

"Don't stroke the man's ego more than it needs, pretty thing," Drawled the handsome High Lord. "His head's big enough as it is."

Rhysand's lips barely twitched but Feyre grinned and Shula couldn't help but look back Cassian's way, where he winked at her. She rolled her eyes, feeling Tamlin's arm come around her shoulders, and the laughter that followed from Rhysand made her face warm again.

"So what is it you do? Other than wear impressive gemstones?" She replied, watching Helion nearly choke on his wine as he brought it to his lips.

"I lead Rhysand's armies," Cassian replied, his own expression torn between annoyance and amusement. "Azriel here leads his spies. His shadows have shadows." He glaned at his friend, chewing on his food in amusement as she looked over at the reserved Illyrian next to him.

Something about the Spymaster frightened her, so she didn't offer to ask him any questions and she noted he didn't offer to answer any. Silence fell once more around the table until everyone was close to finishing, rising to offer their goodbyes before leaving.

As Shula made towards the door with Tamlin, she bowed her head briefly at the others. The remaining High Lords and their entourages, Day and Night, said nothing, merely mimicking the action. She decided once they were in the hall, she was glad to be gone - something odd had settled back over the group and she wasn't sure what it was, wasn't sure she  _wanted_  to know.

* * *

 

"You trust them?"

Feyre turned, looking at the others that took seats around the sitting room once more. She shrugged, glancing back at the door, where Shula had left with Tamlin. "She means well. I trust  _her_  at the very least. Tamlin is...a different story. There's too much history to ignore."

Helion chuckled. "She wouldn't look at me twice, so there's something to say for that." At Rhysand's groan, he flashed the man a grin. "What? She was attractive as hell, but she stuck by her mate's side. I have to respect that, at least."

"You did mean what you said, right? About the soldiers? I wasn't joking before, his court's pretty much obliterated from what we saw when I went looking for him," Rhysand frowned, reaching a hand out to squeeze Feyre's hand, noticing her swallow.

"Of course I did," Helion huffed, sounding clearly offended. "I mean what I say when I say it, Rhys."

Rhysand ignored him, having only eyes for Feyre. "Hey," he murmured softly, tugging her into his lap, where she sighed and lamented, settling against him. "Don't do that."

"She wasn't lying with what she said," She said, ignoring the looks of the others. "We need to help more than the others, since I am mostly responsible for its current state."

Rhysand gently tucked her hair behind her ears, staring at her with love in his eyes. "We will. It'll be alright, Feyre."

"I hope so, because I guarantee those mortal queens aren't done. They're still alive, still pissed, and still aware the state that Spring is in," warned Helion, sobering the room once more.

Rhysand glared at Helion, who simply shrugged at the obvious truth of his words. Feyre sighed and couldn't respond to that, knowing as well as the others how true what he said was.

* * *

 

Once they were back inside their own suite, Tamlin was ravenous. Once her dress was shrugged off, he backed her to the bed, roughly palming her breasts to sharp faceted peaks with his fingers, growling at the litany of moans that met his actions.

 _Don't be gentle,_ she teased him, knowing it would excite him.  _I want you to take me hard and fast until I'm begging to come._ He growled again, thrusting a hand between her legs, feeling his fangs elongate as his tongue curled around her nipples as he discovered her wet folds, rubbing his hard length against the inside of her thigh.

Sitting back sharply, she watched him strip, then press her legs wide, shoving forward and seating himself to the hilt once he spread her sex slightly with his fingers. He groaned sharply, barking at her to squeeze around him, and when she did, she watched the ripple of pleasure he felt as he snarled and trembled, then lunged over her and began a fast, driving rhythm.

 _Mine,_  he snarled down the bond, his hands squeezing her breasts, plucking at her nipples, as he pounded into her. She moaned softly, squeezing tighter, feeling his cock twitch as he briefly paused, then began his thrusts harder than before.  _Tell me you're mine. All of you._

 _I'm all yours,_ she gasped down the bond.  _I need - Gods, Tamlin, I_ _ **need**_ _..._ she struggled to finish the words, mewling helplessly as he angled his hips, thrusting hard and fast - down, down, down - hammering perfectly against those sweet spots inside her he'd discovered that first night they were together, her inarticulate cries evidence of how thoroughly he ruled over her in that moment.

 _Tell me, Shula. I want to hear you say it._ She noted his own struggle to form words down the bond, as he moved, his body growing slick, his eyes shifting golden as he neared his own end, his cock thick and hot, plunging tightly through the warm wet grip of her own body.

 _I need to come,_ _ **please**_ _\- please Tamlin,_ _ **please**_ _, I -_ He interrupted her pleading as he plunged harder, angled sharper, moving his body even faster. She screamed, casting herself off that cliff, and came hard around him, gripping, pulsing, milking, feeling his hiss of pleasure at the feel of her exploding around him fill the air as he stiffened atop her, then shuddered  _hard_.

 _Fuck - Oh fuck, I'm comin_  - He roared and convulsed in hard rough spasms, thrusting his hips weakly through the warm plume that bloomed inside her, spurting in long, deep arcs. Finally, he flattened atop her, crushing her under the sweaty warmth of his weight, and she held him close, finding his mouth with her own.

 _I love you,_ he echoed hoarsely down the bond, rolling off her, keeping her close to his side.  _Gods, I love you._

She meant to echo the words down the bond, but sleep claimed her before she could reply.

* * *

 

The next day, before anyone else rose, they left, winnowing back to the small meadow that was a few hours walk away from the manor, wanting to spend part of the morning alone - like it had been when they'd first met.

"Things have certainly changed, haven't they?" Tamlin murmured, where he'd pulled her in the small shelter of a circle of trees and taken her soft and slow, the opposite of how roughly he'd taken her last night. "Do you regret it?"

She stroked a hand down his spine, smiling as she felt him shiver underneath her ministrations. "Not one thing." The soft purr that escaped him made her smile.

He tugged her to a stand after he stood himself, helping her don her undergarments. When he finished dressing himself, grabbing her gown from before, he noted with chagrin that he'd finally ripped a strip of the buttons at the back of her gown, making her laugh.

"Well, at least you waited until now to do that, I suppose. I think -" She'd started to reply, only to stop as an agonizing pain flared from her shoulder, making her gasp. Tamlin stilled, his expression shifting from shock, to horror, to fury, as she looked down, feeling the sharp edges of an arrow splintering out from her right shoulder.

"I…" She struggled to reply around the pain, falling to her knees, feeling unbearably weak. Suddenly, she couldn't hear his shouts, in her face or down the bond, as blackness drifted close along the edges of her vision. When she looked past his shoulder, she was able to make out several bodies running their way. She wasn't sure if Tamlin saw them, too distraught at the sight of her bleeding on the ground and tried to move her mouth to warn him but darkness consumed her vision completely, leaving her only with the image of Tamlin hovering over her, his expression a mixture of panic and fury, as countless fae ran towards him.

_**Run** _ _Tamlin…._


	13. Chapter 13

_Part Five - The Fox and the Hound_

* * *

 

"Gods, he's coming to. Hurry it up with the knife already! One, two, three... _pull!_ "

Tamlin woke with a roar, tensing as a flare of pain bloomed from his right calf with a searing amount of cold. "Where...what…. _Fuck!_   _Shu_ …" He blinked, looking around, his head spinning. "Shula?  _Shula!_ Where is she? Where is Shula?  _ **Shula!**_ "

He struggled to move, realizing suddenly he couldn't. He couldn't even summon his beast, making him blink again and look down. All around them were those refugees he'd rescued from the war camps and….Kallias' men?

" _Where is she?_ Where is Shula? _ **Where is Shula?**_ " He roared again, wincing as he struggled, turning once his arm was freed with another flare of pain and a blast of cold, reaching for another ash arrow buried in his side.

They'd attacked so fast, he hadn't even seen them coming, so worried about Shula when she fell. They'd struck her in the side with an ash arrow, the one thing that inhibited fae powers of accelerated healing and magic worse than faebane. Seeing her fall, seeing her bleed, had scared him to the very marrow in his bones. He had fallen with her, in an attempt to catch her before she hit the ground, when they'd struck him. Over and over, they pierced him, and just as his fingers gripped her wrists, blackness had consumed him.

_Where was she? Where was his mate?_

"They nailed you to the rock like a damned criminal, my Gods…" Muttered one of the half-dozen men trying to hold him down while he struggled, roaring past the pain. He had to find her -  _had to._  "Stop moving, please! You're only making it worse! We can't afford to let the wood splinter. Lord Tamlin,  _stop_  -  _ **please stop!**_ "

He wrestled past the pain, struggling to call for her in the bond as he tried and failed to shove the men off him, roaring once more in agony - not from the pain of the arrows being pulled out of his skin, but for not being able to feel her in the bond. He had forgotten while they were at the High Court meeting to ask Thesan for another antidote to the effects of faebane he'd worked up, and  _now_...

"I can't sense her. _I can't sense her._  Get off me! I can't -  _ **Shula!**_ " He roared so loud, the forest shook, the men holding him down trembling briefly as his talons popped out, too weak to summon the beast but powerful enough he was able to shove several of them off him while he turned, ripping the rest of the arrows from his body. He fell roughly to the floor, struggling for several seconds but finally managing to stand despite the massive loss of blood still pouring from his wounds. He didn't care about the state he was in, he had  _promised her_  that she'd never be hurt again, never be  _alone_ again, and he had  _broken_  that promise the moment they'd taken her from him.

 _No, no, no! Shula, my love, can you hear me babe? Can you answer me? Please answer me,_ he choked on his own sobs down the bond, feeling for something -  _anything_  - to let him know she was still there.

Nothing replied back.

He took a few staggering steps forward, only for his knees to give and crash violently to the forest floor underneath him, letting his rage and grief rip another raging howl from his lungs. He knew he looked every bit the raging monster they'd been told he was. He was half-mad with grief and panic, not able to sense her. Was she subdued and laced with faebane? Was she  _dead_?

His mind shut down at that last thought, letting out another roar - this one once again full of the grief and rage and edging hysteria when he tried again - and again and again and  _again_ \- to find her in the bond and unable to sense her.

"Lord Tamlin," murmured a familiar voice, making him grit his teeth and pause, looking into the kind eyes of the older human male that had been the first to remind him of all his transgressions on his people and his court when they'd been rescued. He quieted himself, staring at the man, feeling tears slide down his face.

"I can't sense her," he croaked, the very real fear of not being able to find her in the bond breaking his show of strength, struggling not to cry openly in front of the human. The man nodded, coming forward slowly, and the look of pity and understanding on his face had his despair shattering his mask of fury, his eyes shimmering with tears.

"I know," he replied back, laying a hand on his shoulder. Tamlin struggled again to avoid drowning in his heartbreak at that show of kindness as he met the man's stare, realizing the human was weeping too. It was clear then, to Tamlin, that this human as well as the others gathered cared just as much about her disappearance as he did.

"We will find her, Lord Tamlin. We will hunt down the traitorous scum that took her and make them pay," the man murmured, his voice struggling to contain his sadness and fury, looking over Tamlin's heavily injured body. "But you're not doing anyone any favors by further injuring yourself. Let these men help you back to the manor. I've already told the other men that arrived of the missives in your study. Maybe it'll help find the High Lady. In the meantime, you need to control your grief and rage and give yourself time to heal and allow the rest of us to help you."

The older human man looked around and Tamlin did the same, struggling not to lose his composure. His head and body swam with exhaustion, but none of it eased his panic at being unable to sense her. "I can't lose her.  _I can't._ "

"We know. Drink this," the human murmured, reaching behind him as another shoved something in his hand. He brought the warm drink to Tamlin's throat and he gagged but drank it steeply as the man asked, feeling his head swarm with drowsiness almost instantly.

"Shula," he murmured, his words slurring, feeling the men lift him up, barely able to feel the wounds in his torso and limbs. Almost instantly, he fell into a troubled sleep.

_Shula…_

* * *

 

She woke up, moaning with pain, blinking and studying her swaying surroundings. It took her several minutes to realize the room swayed, not her bearings. The salty scent of the ocean assaulted her nose as her shoulder screamed in agony with each moment and she suddenly realized - as fear seized her limbs immobile - that she was on a ship.

 _A ship...sending me back home...to_ _**her** _ _._

The rough buck of waves that shuddered against the ship following her realization had Shula's weakened form rolling across her cell, wondering again why she felt so weak. She realized once more, trying to keep her eyes open and hold her shoulder in place against the pain, that they must have laced the contents of her cell with faebane once more.

"H-Hello? Who's there? Why are you doing this?  _Hello?_ _ **Answer me!**_ " Shula managed to cry out, seeing a brief sliding port hole open, a set of unknown eyes peering at her. She moved, weakly scrambling across the cell, to bang on the panel that had closed shut not long after studying her, realizing she was awake. "Let me out! _Let me out!_ "

No one replied, but a fistful of bread was shoved through after they managed to shove her back with a metal baton. She cried out as it connected with her wrist, clutching her arm, seeing the crusted contents of her 'dinner' being thrust into her confinement. As she scrambled back across to the small window, it instantly sealed shut again, and this time - when her panic at being locked up  _again_  hit her - no one answered.

* * *

 

He moved determinedly, leaning heavily on the cane in his right hand, ignoring the flare of pain up his side. He was almost fully recovered but still not enough yet to shift fully to the beast and seek his vengeance out on whomever stole his mate. He'd waited as long as he could stand and when he heard that Day, Night and Winter heads were at his manor, he refused to wait idly in his rooms while  _they_ figured out what would become of  _his mate_.

Bursting through the door, he snarled as he watched the three High Lords look up from his desk, the transcription logs and decryption cube spread across the oak paneling at his desk. Neither Rhysand or Helion looked overly concerned at the notable wrath on his face, but Kallias stood, looking over Tamlin with a sense of surprise.

"You're awake and...remarkably well healed. I see Feyre's handiwork was well-placed," Lord Winter commented, looking over at Rhysand as he tensed. Tamlin stiffened, looking towards Rhysand, who simply shrugged.

Ignoring that surprising statement, he plowed on, further moving into the room. He was close, so  _very close_ , to being able to summon the beast and heal himself more quickly in that form. He could feel it, restless and pacing, just beneath his skin, as he stared over the other High Lords present. "Why the hell are you  _here_  and not looking for her?" He snarled, the panes of the windows rattling with his fury. "She could be  _hurt, scared_ …"

"The trail is cold, Tamlin." Murmured Rhysand, looking up from the paperwork splayed across the desk. For once, something akin to understanding flashed across his face. "We've looked and  _looked_ , Tamlin. For days." Tamlin paled and Rhysand nodded, looking over his form. "You were injured quite severely and we thought it best you remained subdued until the worst of your wounds were sealed…"

Tamlin's snarl rattled the contents of the room once more, but Rhysand continued on, his tone gratingly unafflicted. "...so you could help us find her rather than simply injure yourself further. Regardless of how we feel about  _you_ , your mate is quite adored here and at the council. We will not stand for it, Tamlin."

"We're stuck," Helion interrupted Tamlin's look of surprise at Rhysand, turning to eyeball Lord Day. He tapped on the paperwork in front of him. "Your refugees showed us this. This person knew of your mate, had a major stake in where she was being kept before, and also ties back to the Mortal Queen that claims Shula belongs to her. We need to know who this person is to act. Do you know this name?"

Tamlin stepped forward, looking where Helion tapped his finger. When he read the name, his hackles rose, as did his fury. Rhysand and the others stilled, sensing the shift in the room, feeling the air crackle with heat and energy.

 _I know that name,_ his thoughts roared, as he raised his eyes to meet Helion's.  _And I know exactly where to find him._

He dropped the cane, feeling his power well past his pain, and before the others could so much as open their mouths, he was gone, winnowing to the destination where he would find the person bearing that name.

_When I find him - I'm going to kill him and whomever sanctioned this order on my mate's head._

* * *

 

He landed as he wanted, right outside the estate in question, soft dead leaves crunching underneath his feet as he landed. He kept quiet, his eyes flashing golden, as he tilted his head up and inhaled sharply - searching for that scent he'd found last year, when he'd gone searching to get protestors to their feet and join in the war.

Tilting his head sharply, his talons springing loose - he caught it. It was subtle, barely there, but present. It smelled of crushed dead leaves, a cool breeze, and cold wet earth - the tell-tale scent of the assassin he searched for. Snarling, he sprang forward, shifting to the beast who was clawing at his stomach lining to be released, to vent his frustrations at failing to save his mate.

When he found the scent and launched, after barreling into the quiet house unannounced, he enjoyed the screams of the servants as their master jumped to his feet, brown eyes flashing, hands going for the blades Tamlin knew he kept, but rage fueled him, making him faster than the other fae.

He relished the way the man's face contorted from arrogance to panic as his claws and fangs sank deep, blood welling in the wounds that barely managed to avoid being fatal. As his beast roared, breaking furniture along with the master of this house, he shifted and pressed his knees painfully down into the wounds he had caused, grinding his joints down enough to watch the fae howl in pain.

" _Merick_ ," Tamlin growled, baring his blood-soaked teeth at the fae beneath him. " _You_  helped them?  _You_  helped them do what they did - to those people and my court?" His talons were still out as the man spat at him, the spittle that sprayed across his cheeks tinged pink with blood. He snarled, punching him across the face with an open hand, cutting a wide gash across his left cheek. He grinned down as the fae moaned in pain. "You did that and yet you claim  _me_  the monster? Spit on me  _one more time_  and I'll show you just how monstrous I can be."

The fae paused, panting, paling from the adrenaline leaving his body and the amount of blood pouring out of his open wounds. "What do you want?" He muttered weakly.

"Who worked with the mortals and sanctioned the grab of my mate?" He growled, leaning down, drawing his talons out to full length, pressing one into the open wound at his shoulder, watching the male howl in pain when he failed to answer. " _Who sanctioned it?_ "

Finally, the male relented, after Tamlin worked his wounds into further excruciating pain. "Lord Beron!"

Tamlin paused, his fury contorting his face. " _Why?_ "

The fae laughed, finally bold once more, spitting again in Tamlin's face. "Why  _not?_  You were weak, hated, laughably understaffed with soldiers...and you insulted his pride when you did what you did at his court last year. Why  _not_ act now, so you can prove to the world once more what a weak-minded, ill-suited High Lord you are? I hope they rape her and break her before you find her, so you can watch her wither and die and know it's all  _your faul -"_

The man didn't even get to complete his words, Tamlin's beast taking over, splitting his skin in its haste to be set free. Too late, the fae realized his mistake in taunting him, screaming in agony as Tamlin ripped him limb from limb, then left, ignoring the gaping stares of the servants that watched High Lord Spring, covered in gore, winnow from sight.

_You want a monster, Beron? You got one. I'm coming for you next._

* * *

 

Eris watched from his perch where his father sat at his throne, the older fae ignoring his wife, who sat at his side, and smiled coldly as he watched his court continue in their conniving antics down below. A deep-seated hatred that always welled up within him as he watched his father burned through his gut, making him both envious of the man on that throne and disgusted with himself if he focused too hard on the source of the discomfort.

Casting off the useless self-pity, for it would serve him no good, in either staying atop his family's shadowy tactics for political dominance or staying alive, he turned and moved to sink further into the shadows, curious what he could discover  _this time_ from the little sparrows he kept sanctioned around the court - when he suddenly felt it.

It was molten-hot air, swelling in current, plowing towards the front double doors. His amber eyes flickered warily towards it, but - the further he stared, the more he began to grin. He knew, one day, his father's scheming would go too far and he found himself surprised at who flew through those doors in a rage, sinking further back into the shadows, watching as Lord Spring blew past the guards, shredding them like butter, only to wrap his fists around Beron's throat, once more gouging deep, this time without restraint.

" _You allied with the mortals to take my mate_ ," roared Tamlin, easily able to fight off the guards that tried - and failed - to defend their High Lord, his words booming in the court for all to hear. "You sold her to the mortals - _for what?_ To get even with me? I told you, I  _warned you_ , what I would do if you harmed her. You wanted a monster Beron and  _here I am_."

Eris felt glee - bubbling, wild, effervescent  _glee_ \- at the change in the air. He enjoyed the thrill of hearing his name called, bellowed by his brothers and his father's guards, as he sank back further in the shadows, away from sight, while Tamlin roared and let himself go - shifting once more to that monster everyone claimed he was.

His amber eyes didn't miss a beat, having waited  _too long_  for this day to occur. He'd seen what court his father cultivated - in the way the courtesans present enjoyed tearing each other apart in coyish games of treachery, in the way he had treated Lucien, who Eris had long suspected was his half-brother, not full, in the way he had that lesser fae raped that his brother dared to love, the way he'd had his own fiancée raped for sullying herself with an Illyrian, the way he'd had his  _own mother's_ sense of self-worth utterly destroyed. The hatred he kept kindled and hidden within him for his father was strong - and finally,  _finally,_ it was paying off.

He relished taking no heed to those that called his name, demanded he assist in aiding his father. He wanted to laugh but didn't want to give away his hiding spot.

 _Not this time, Father._ Eris sneered, watching as Beron screamed, dying a slow and agonizing death at the hands of a male his father had been stupid enough to betray.  _Not today. Today it's MY turn. You're a relic, a thing of the past, and soon this'll be MY court, MY place, MY rules. Not today…_

He stepped forward when he felt it - the moment his father died and he ascended, feeling the crackle of energy sear along his insides, claiming his birthright. He schooled his features into one of proper horror at what he was witnessing, launching himself from the balcony he had hidden in, to come toe to toe with Tamlin's beast who stared at him with golden eyes lacking any remorse, covered in the blood of his own father.

"You've had your revenge, Lord Spring," Eris hissed, feeling his power of flame rise under his skin, sending his hair crackling to life around his body. "Now  _go._ "

The beast roared, golden eyes furious, as Eris kept pace with him as he turned. "We do not know where she is. Try the mortal lands, or the Night Court. I heard my  _brother_ is awfully familiar with one of their queens. Perhaps  _he_ can help you. Now  _leave_  before things get worse."

He shifted his eyes to the guards, who stared at Tamlin with wariness and fear,  _real_  fear. "Let him pass. Do not give chase."

They shifted briefly, struggling to understand his order, so Eris let a little of his power be known. They swallowed, dropping their swords, forcing themselves at ease per the new High Lord in their midst.

Tamlin panted, shifting back to his fae counterpart, staring hard at Eris. Eris stared back, refusing to show weakness, and watched as Tamlin calmed the static in the air - and winnowed away.

He turned, looking down at his father's corpse, then looked to his brothers knowingly, watching their faces turn dark, then sink into the shadows. His mother rose, staring at Beron, then left, saying nothing. Once he was alone with the court, he smoothed the wrinkles out of his tunic and settled in his father's chair, glancing down at the remains of the male he'd hated for centuries.

Flashing his teeth at the guards, he flicked a wrist at the body. "Burn it."

They complied, silently gathering Beron's body as Eris turned a cold eye towards the court. "Tonight, go home. Rest. Tomorrow, meet here. The Autumn court is  _mine_  now and I'd like to see a few changes take place... _immediately_."

No one said anything, rising and leaving as quickly as they came, casting him a wary eye as they did what he asked. He grinned, closing his eyes after they left, settling into what was now  _his seat_ , relaxing for the first time in centuries.

* * *

 

Helion tensed, dropping what he was saying mid-sentence, to stare across Tamlin's study in shock. The others followed suit, their brows lowering as they stared over Tamlin's bloody form, his chest heaving, eyes flashing golden as he stared at where Rhysand sat - now with Feyre at his side.

Tamlin noted the two Illyrians from before tense in the corner of the room, their hands resting on the pommel of their blades, as Tamlin thrust a finger in Feyre's direction, his next words a mere growl.

"Beron is the one who betrayed me and I ripped him limb from fucking limb. Eris ascended in his place and does not wish a blood feud, so don't bother asking questions. Bring me Lucien, I hear he knows one of the mortal queens.  _Now_."

 


	14. Chapter 14

The voyage across the sea that took her south, towards her past and the monarch that betrayed her trust, was arduous on both the crew and their prisoner. Shula was never allowed out, never allowed privacy, and had begun to feel like the animal restlessly pacing beneath her skin.

It was the beast inside her that kept insanity at bay as hours dragged into days and days dragged into a fortnight and she realized Tamlin had been right - it was a part of her, always would be, and she finally found herself grateful for it. While the faebane might have made it where she couldn't transform, she found herself pacing, thinking in terms of black and white - survival or death, freedom or confinement - all the superficial lining of her life stripped bare, now only existing on the threadbare needs of willpower and instinct.

 _I will survive this, Tamlin. I_ _**will** _ _come back to you - I swear it._

Storms battered the ship that took her further away from Tamlin and the court she'd grown to respect and love and with nature's fury pounding on the sails and main deck, it also took their extra stores of food and fresh water as ropes snapped and precious supplies fell overboard. By the time they arrived on land, she was weakened and severely malnourished, the beast almost silent as well underneath her skin. Once again, she found herself thinking of her mother and of her time in that last cell, where she'd nearly starved.

Just as she was hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, she heard a shrill squeal of a rusted lock turning and then a moist wet brush of air hit her face. She wheezed, hissing faintly in pain as she turned on the floor, a lantern thrust in her face. She tried to scramble back but found her limbs weak and unwilling to cooperate with her mind's demands, lips dry and cracked but nevertheless peeling back from her mouth, baring her teeth. If they planned to rape or kill her, she'd at least go down fighting with whatever reserves she had left. Sadly, as they moved into the cell, she realized with bitterness she was too weak to even fight, barely able to remain conscious as they hauled her to her knees, only to slam a metal collar tightly around her neck, bruising her throat in the process. She growled, trying to summon the beast, but found the collar forbid it. Her eyes narrowed as the mercenaries grinned at her, realizing what it was made of - faebane-laced metal.

" _Move, bitch!_ " Barked one of the men, kicking her in the small of the back as she stumbled once more to a stand, scrambling to follow their orders, her vision blurring for a moment. When she finally recovered enough to move, rough arms and hands grabbing her forearms and half-dragging, half-shoving her across the darkened hold, she darted her eyes around, hearing the moans and low cries of pain from the darkened corners of the ship, wondering who else was down here suffering with her with surprise. She hadn't heard anything from her cell, but her cell had been made of metal and stone and she shuddered, her heart aching for the nameless companionable victims still trapped here.

 _I will be back for you, if I survive,_ she promised them silently, following the group of men as they shoved her towards the stairs straight ahead that led to the main deck of the ship. Outside, she began to pick up on snippets of a terse conversation.

"Captain? You said she was here? Then  _produce her._ The Queen is most impatient to see her possession. My spells only work at specific times and you're a week later than I requested."

"Listen, mister -"

"Amaury. It's Amaury - Arch Mage Amaury."

"Yeah, whatever - I can't control the damned weather, alchy." The male voice who she assumed was the Captain sneered -  _What's an Alchy? Does he mean Alchemist? -_ the sound of him spitting being heard as she climbed the stairs. The pit of her stomach fell as she moved, that did not bode well for her.

"It's been a fuckin' nightmare out there at sea," The Captain continued, his voice a mere growl. "Almost lost a third of my crew as it is settin' the pace we did for you. She's comin', I sent the boys to fetch her. She's ripe as rain, like I promised, all high fae and everythin'. Now where's my money, eh?"

Shula drew her gaze towards the area of the deck where the two men stood, squinting against the searing light of the overhead sun - clammy moist fear seizing her stomach as she caught sight of them.

The mortal that had arrived to claim her was tall, broad-chested, dark-haired and dark-completed that screamed of his southern heritage. He was dressed in expensive robes marking him as a member of the court but the colors he wore she didn't recognize. She blinked, still squinting, her eyes adjusting to the brightness of the outside, thinking he didn't look at all like an alchemist or scientist of the mortal realms that she remembered - but when her eyes narrowed on the familiar braided belt of black and gold at his side, her insides turned to ice. He took one look at her and glowered, his eyes lowering over her form. When he realized she spotted the belt marking his trade, he grinned at her in a way that made her stomach heave.

She'd heard about what his kind did - those alchemists to the south, who'd taught the mortal realms snippets in forbidden fae magic. Why was he here? What did he want with her?

She looked up, trying to shield her eyes, not recognizing the port they'd brought her to, feeling the cold metal end of a rifle being shoved at the base of her shoulder blades as one man impatiently grabbed her elbow and hauled her forward, her feet struggling to keep up with their pace.

"See? Like I said, here she is. Now, iff'n you don't mind, we'd like…"

" _Silence_ ," the alchemist growled, stepping towards Shula. She tensed, glaring as she met his eyes. What stared back at her from his made her heart thud painfully against her ribs.

"Who are you? Why am I here? What do you want?" She asked, stiffening as he ignored her questions and drew near, staring at her like she was an insect or worse. She tried to fight back when one of his hands snaked out, grasping her hair and tugging painfully to the side - to kick, yell, scream, slap or claw at him,  _anything_  to stay away from him as something about his inspection unsettled her - but all her responses did was merit more vicious slams from the men holding onto her, making her sway against the pain.

He ignored her whimpers, tugging painfully on her ears, inspecting her jaw, her teeth, even going as far as testing her body in intimate places - the rough swipe of his hand against her sex and breasts making her scream and buck further. The men laughed and pointed as he fondled her like a calf being measured for the slaughter, shame flaring sharply in her face when she struggled to no avail.

He finally stopped his inspection, seemingly satisfied with what he had found, and pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his hand on it once he withdrew his hand from her breast. Somehow, that hurt more than anything - like the mortal felt she had tainted him somehow. She growled but the sound was weak, even to her ears.

Humility and shame rode high in the back of her throat, the need to gag overpowering. Staring at the way he studied her like she was an object - not a living, breathing, thinking and feeling creature - made her limbs shake with rage. Unable to stomach the flat emotionless pits of his eyes as he finally met her gaze, she shoved forward, stumbling out of the men's grip to spit in his face. He grimaced, wiping furiously at his face with the handkerchief in his hand, and she almost laughed, but before she could she was yanked back and staggered as one of the Captain's men slapped her viciously across the face, making her head spin and her ears ring.

"Sorry 'bout that. She's been a wild thing below deck, damn near killed a few of my cabin boys. Fae ain't human, ya know. Practically animals. Gotta keep her on a tight leash, 'less you plan on killin' her. The sooner the better, I say," She heard the Captain explain to the man who continued to wipe at his face furiously, muttering something under his breath. "Now where's my money?"

Fear seized her, making her go limp in the men's arms.  _Kill me?_

The man handed the captain a fat leather pouch and the older man grinned, opening the pouch and testing the coins with his teeth. Suddenly, he stepped forward, then covered his hand with his robe, slapping her so hard across the face, she felt blood well in her mouth from where her teeth tore at the inside of her cheek. "Never do that again. You won't like the result."

She stumbled roughly to her knees, forcing herself to swallow the moan of pain, determined not to seem weak. She looked up at him and scowled.  _Just wait until this collar is off, you bastard. Then we'll see who's tough and who isn't._

"Get her out of my sight. Tie her in the hold of my carriage. Go." He motioned for the two men standing on either side of her to handle her as he moved away, towards the docks. "Be quick about it, I am on a schedule."

She tensed, tilting her head to look at the two men, who smirked and rolled up their sleeves. They hadn't been kind to her on her trip here - but neither had she been kind to them. Gritting her teeth, she tried to jerk to a stand, whirling to give as good as she got - but when the savage blow of a rifle butt slammed against her temple, all she saw was darkness.

* * *

 

Tamlin stared at the refugees gathered in the ballroom-turned-banquet hall from the corner of the room, where the countless groups of fae and human alike ate and conversed in low, hushed tones of concern. He nodded his head a few times as some briefly looked his way - their eyes filled with worry and a tinge of sadness and sympathy. Each time they stared, he would nod his head and try and ignore the numbness that spread out from his heart towards his fingers. They were here because of  _her,_ they didn't look at him with distaste because of  _her_ , they had vowed to stay and help the Spring Court flourish, some even volunteering to join him -  _because of her._

_I'm coming, love. Soon, I swear it. Please stay safe, don't take any risks, don't do anything to jeapordize your well-being. I need you - we need you._

He turned, drawing his gaze across the room, towards the raised dais with its chair of gold and red roses, making his way towards it. He had told them at dinner that he was address the room and their missing High Lady and it was nearing that time. The other Lords hadn't returned after his barked demand, nor had Lucien shown - not that he had expected it. If anything had been taught to him in his years as High Lord of Spring, he was and would always be alone.

The closer he got, staring at that monstrosity of opulence thrust upon the warm marble dais, the more his pulse pounded wildly in his ears, twisting his insides into a chaos of tumultuous emotions. He'd always hated that chair - his father's chair - and the thought of sitting it without Shula by his side, or - hell, something her preferred even more than that -  _her_ sitting in it, a crown of thorns and roses on  _her_ head instead of his - made his heart seize painfully in his chest.

Stepping up the few steps and turning, settling into the seat, he sighed, rubbing a finger along his brow before he heard the silence descend in the room. Looking up, he stared wearily into the faces of what was left of his court. Amongst the crowd, he once more spotted the old human mortal, the one that had called him  _monster_ , startled to see concern and approval in his gaze.

Opening his mouth to speak, he heard the double doors to the left slam open. Tilting his head, he narrowed his gaze towards the interruption, then blinked - startled once more at what he saw.

Rows and rows of his old sentries, staring at him with a mixture of remorse and regret in their eyes, poured into the empty spaces of the room. Most bore Summer colors, some Autumn, but all had familiar faces. He went utterly immobile as he watched them turn, then salute him, falling silent as the head sentry stepped forward. "Lord Tamlin!"

He nodded at the address, dropping his gaze as the sentry fell to his knee, the others following suit. Tamlin simply stared, a blank expression on his face as his eyes shifted around the room, noting the startled looks of the other refugees as well. He waited for the man to continue, not yet willing to talk, tense and wary of what brought the sentries back home. His brow lowered the longer he stared at the shared looks on their faces and suddenly, he knew the source of their shame - it had been them that had set his manor and court to shambles before he had fled to the woods.

Still, he said nothing, only motioning for the lead sentry to continue, forcing a faint smile on his face when the man looked up, flinching as he saw Tamlin's green-eyed stare levelling meeting his own. He wasn't angry at what they had done - he had failed them and they were bitter and there was nothing to be done about it now. "Speak."

"We know what Lady Night did. We…" He faltered, swallowing, looking to the ground. "We humbly request we be allowed to return and help protect this court and these people to try and make amends for what we did. It's…" The sentry looked up, sighing, meeting Tamlin's eyes. "It's the least we can do, for what we did. I'm ashamed that I allowed another court to twist my loyalty away from my home. We should have been better -  _will be better_  - than that, if you'll have us."

Tamlin blinked, shock flashing across his features at the male's words, opening his mouth to accept his offer, when he felt it - a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room. He sighed once more, glancing away from the sentries, who quickly stood, staring mutinously across the ballroom towards the others gathered there - most of their animosity directed at the woman amongst the crowd of ruling fae who had been responsible for the turn of events all those months ago.

Rhysand bared his teeth, lifting a sliver of the veil shielding his powers, sending the room into a blanket of glittering darkness. Hearing the blades of the sentries being drawn, the low startled whispers of fear from the refugees begin to escalate in the sudden shadow that enveloped the room, he raised a hand, making his voice loud and firm as he spoke.

" _Stop."_

Everyone paused, the darkness in the air dissipating. Even Rhysand and Feyre, who stood beside Helion, Kallias and now Tarquin blinked, looking to him. He made sure his face bore the same stone-faced finality that his voice did. "Leave them be. Night, Summer, and Day are welcome here."

A sudden silence descended in the room, cutting off all sound like a knife. He stared back tenaciously at all the stunned stares clashing against his own unflinching one. He looked at the sentries, who began to relax, removing their hands from the pommels of their swords. "At ease, all of you."

"My Lord, but  _she's_  the reason this place is in the state it's in!" Barked a sentry from his side as he stared at the others, suddenly tensing as he saw Lucien step out from the shadows, his expression unreadable. He frowned briefly at the odd look the male gave him, then glanced sharply at the same sentry that now muttered something under his breath.

"Yes, you're right, she is - but so am I, so are you, so is every other High Lord, mortal, fae or otherwise that wasn't here when  _they_ needed it." He growled, pointing at the refugees. Several of the refugees shifted restlessly on their feet, but many glared back at the sentries and the other High Fae present in the room, their chins notching higher. Briefly, his eyes shifted once more to that old human man, watching a slow smile spread across his face. He shifted his eyes away, uncomfortable with the look of admiration the man wore.

"If you're here to start more fights, then  _leave_. I care for only two things: saving my mate and protecting these people. If you're not here for either, then  _go._ " He canted his head deliberately towards the sentry in question, watching shame scald the male's cheeks. When he said nothing, he shifted his eyes towards the old human man. "Kristoph, come here please."

The older man's brows puckered briefly in confusion but he did as he asked. Tamlin smiled, standing slowly, stepping off the throne he despised. He moved towards him, stilling as he drew close.

"You're going to get her back, I presume?" Kristoph said, smiling faintly.

Tamlin nodded. "I am." He looked over towards Tarquin, a hush once more stilling over the room. "I've placed my lands temporarily in Tarquin's hands."

Several gasps filled the air and Tamlin didn't hesitate to look at the other Lords present. He kept his expression blank, but amusedly watched the glazed look of surprise and shock flicker in the eyes of the others. As he looked towards Tarquin, the man smiled knowingly.  _Good,_ he realized.  _You didn't tell them what I asked when I wrote you the other day. Thank you._

Tarquin must have caught this shift in his eye, nodding his head as he stepped past the others, moving towards him. Tamlin briefly smiled, glancing back at the others before looking towards the old man who had since become a sanctioned elder to the others sheltering now in his court.

"Most of you came from Summer, when you returned. It seemed best I placed it in the hands of our neighbor and someone I can trust. However, I need someone  _here_ , to see to this court while I'm gone. Tarquin has his own lands to run. He can only offer supplies with what Winter is already willing to give, while Night and Day…" He shifted his eyes towards the other Lords, daring them to change tactics now, "offered to run the lands, make sure no more Hybern or Mortal sympathizers take root."

Rhysand stiffened, as did Helion and Kallias, but they nodded, their expressions unreadable. Tamlin turned, looking at Kristoph, who stared at Tamlin with a small smile - the same spirit of Shula and the way she looked at him when he rescued her from that pit in the woods - and he swallowed. "We can't keep doing things the way we always have. My mate, our High Lady, was right in that. I refuse to continue down the same path. We know where that road ends." He looked to the sentries, who looked humbled, before glancing back at Kristoph. "So, with that being said, will you accept my offer of Ambassador of the Spring Court?"

The room went utterly silent once more as he watched surprise shift across the man's face. Never before had a mortal been offered any rank of power in a Prythian court, but Shula had proved to him that a human heart was as fierce and loving as a fae's. He hoped, prayed, the man accepted the position while the whole room waited for the man to answer.

They didn't have to wait long. Kristoph smiled and bowed, making sure to bend his knee slightly, letting everyone know without words that he respected and - better yet - believed in the High Lord of Spring. "I accept, my Lord."

Tamlin swallowed at his use of 'my Lord.' He looked, hearing others briefly bow, then smiled faintly, glancing at Tarquin who'd stepped up beside him. "I'll let you two get acquainted, then."

Turning, he looked at the other High Lords, marching towards them, his expression shifting towards that stone-hard tenacity he'd worn earlier. Motioning for them to follow, he left the ballroom, not waiting to see who followed - closing his eyes as he drew in a shaking breath - hearing the silence once more fill with hushed whispers - these of hope.

 _That was for you, love, and what you want this place to be._ His thoughts chanted, heart aching, as he headed towards his study, hearing the rustle of clothing and the trail of power at his heels, knowing the other High Lords followed.

_Hang in there, Shula. I'm coming._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to add a little more politics and lore building for my take on the ACOTAR world and this will be a little longer than a few more chapters. Not by much, but enough to establish something to turn into a series format. We'll see how long my muse wants to play in this fandom, but it seems like it will be a long while before I'm leaving. 
> 
> Thank you all or the love on this fic. Obviously, the more I write, the more this will be a sort of canon divergence, but hopefully I've made this all believable.


	15. Chapter 15

Tamlin settled in the large chair behind the oak desk, watching as the other High Lords and Lucien moved into the study. He was wary, tense, but for the first time - in control. He watched Kallias and Helion study him sharply, a brief hint of surprise dancing in their eyes before Rhysand and Feyre entered with Lucien at their heels.

Tamlin watched as Feyre and Lucien stood next to each other, Rhysand choosing to lean against the far wall and quietly close the door to the hall. His expression was a blank mask but Tamlin could sense the alertness in his otherwise stoic face. Tamlin flicked his gaze back to Kallias and Helion who continued to stare at him like some mystery to be unraveled. Tired of being ogled, he rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to find a seat.

"That was an unusual display," commented Helion as he found a seat, sprawling easily in the chair he found, dark hair and golden eyes curiously roving over Tamlin's form. "Not a hint of the beast, either. I'm shocked to say I'm even marginally impressed. Giving Tarquin control of your lands? Bold move...but smart."

"Couldn't exactly trust any of you, could I? Nor Autumn, considering I just killed their ruler," Tamlin replied, glancing around the room, watching everyone tense. Rhysand said nothing, still wearing that same mask, but Tamlin didn't mention the wince on Lucien's face before he muttered something and looked out the window.

"Not that we shouldn't attempt to get there. Your presence here, your troops - it does stand for something." He finally commented, glancing to Feyre who had gone eerily quiet, a troubled look in her eyes.

"Not that you had much reason to trust me in the past, either, given what happened…" He commented offhandedly, watching Feyre turn and look his way. He offered her a slight smile, ignoring Rhysand's form tensing behind her. She hesitated but swallowed, nodding and lowering her eyes.

"Anyways…" He cleared his throat, glancing over at Lucien with narrowed eyes. "Enough dawdling. You know a mortal queen? Can get us safe passage there?"

Tamlin turned in his chair, tensing, staring into the eyes of the one male who'd been by his side through nearly everything, until that fateful day Feyre had left the court in a whirlwind of mystery, shattering the hearts, lives and faith of his court - taking him with her. While losing the court had hurt, losing his best friend had felt like a punch to the gut - one he hadn't still fully come to terms with. Even now, as he stared into the face of someone he'd trusted with nearly every part of himself, he wondered once more where things had gone so horribly wrong - and wondered if the flaw was his or shared amongst those he drew close to. Still, the changes he'd seen in that ballroom - with the sentries returning knowing how the High Lady of the Night Court had so thoroughly played them, with the acceptance of the human Ambassador - he realized things might actually stand a chance to change for the better going forward. Staring at Lucien, he dared to hope that they too could look last their ugly past and build something better.

"I do," replied Lucien. He stepped forward, ignoring the others, scanning over the room and the outside, hesitating as he saw the recovering rose garden. Briefly, he looked back at Tamlin and Tamlin glanced outside, a flash of pain skirting across his face. He knew the importance of those roses - he  _had_ once been his best friend after all.

"Shula...repaired it for me. After it was burned." He commented, ignoring the others, knowing his voice sounded hoarse to even his own ears.

Lucien Vanserra smiled, the expression hesitant, almost troubled, before he looked back out the window. "I heard about your mother's roses when the court fell. Whispers, really. I'm sorry they destroyed something so precious, but I'm glad that she was able to save those. Your mother would have been proud."

Feyre sucked in a sharp breath but Tamlin ignored her response of shock as he looked outside, tipping his head. He saw Rhysand briefly come up beside Feyre and rest a hand against her shoulder and ignored the small part of him that wanted to lash out and drag her across the study, thrusting her face at the window as if to say -  _Yes, Feyre. You did that._

Instead, Tamlin said nothing, figuring more often than not his former best friend would fill the silence with his own rampant need to fill the void with words. Briefly, he felt guilt at the look of discomfort that shifted across Lucien's face before he finally met Tamlin's eyes. Lucien had a rough life, perhaps almost as rough as his own - once a son of the High Lord of Autumn, then a defect to his own court when his father had his lover killed, unable to handle his son falling in love with a lesser fae. He had been there during his lowest points and it was then - realizing how Lucien had known how badly Tamlin had chosen in the past with Feyre and his own handling of his court but still acted on his commands as High Lord due to the loyalty he felt towards him for saving him from his brothers and father - that it was any wonder when Feyre offered him solace in the Court of Night, why he accepted. They had his mate, they had some semblance of peace and a High Lord and High Lady that at least ruled their own fairly well.

"I know Vassa. She's still dealing with a curse of sorts, but she is much more herself these days. She was the firebird you saw on the battlefield." Lucien commented, turning back towards Tamlin, slipping into a vacant seat near his desk. Tamlin's brow briefly raised in question, so Lucien pointed towards Feyre to explain.

The vicious scar on the left side of Lucien's face tugged on his cheek as he flashed Tamlin a faint hint of eyetooth, the golden eye that had replaced his long-ruined natural one flashing gold against the other's brown. Seeing his friend's ruined face as he turned towards Feyre - a face of tawny skin, amber eyes and bright red hair that had once been handsome and still was, even marred - evoked another flare of shame and guilt as he remained quiet, keeping his expression schooled. He'd earned that vicious wound from Amarantha, the fae woman who'd cursed Tamlin, set him on the path to meet Feyre and destroy his court, when he first initially rejected her affections, setting the course of the fae lands into chaos.

 _Gods, things got messy didn't they, old friend? I'm sorry,_ Tamlin thought, shifting his glance towards Feyre - the human girl who had broken Amarantha's curse in the end.

"She had been cursed by the other mortal queens. We hadn't met her, they claimed she was ill, but she was not. She'd been interested in an alliance with Prythian when the others conspired against her," Feyre explained, glancing around at the other High Lords before meeting Tamlin's gaze. "Lucien knew of the power Helion gave me…" She flicked her gaze towards Helion, who simply smiled, before looking back at Tamlin. "..and asked me to lift the curse, but I couldn't. I could only amend it. Helion's working on actually breaking it. If we can prove to her and her people that we do have good intentions, we hope she can inspire more to join us at the next High Court session - and possibly overthrow the corrupt queens from their thrones."

Tamlin blinked, impressed, nodding as he looked between Lucien and Feyre, ignoring the stares Lucien directed his way. He supposed it came to a shock to his best friend to see him conversing so well with Feyre after what transpired.

"What do you mean 'amend it?' " Tamlin frowned, feeling his gut tense. He was not waiting any longer - he was leaving now,  _today._  It had already been too long and he worried for Shula - barely suppressing that streak of ever-presence panic that rumbled underneath his skin when he was still unable to reach her through the bond. He somehow knew she wasn't dead, but he didn't know how long that would hold out for. He knew they were on borrowed time - he wasn't sure  _how_ he knew, he just did. "I will  _not_ delay another second...Shula is in very real danger. I…"

Just then, the beast made itself known, his talons dragging deep gouges along the wood panels of his desk as he shuddered, closing his eyes and mouth, not wanting to show the little slip. It was tired of the talk, the useless discussion, when all it wanted was to  _run, kill, claim its mate._ He struggled against the crisp static that filled the air and idly heard the other High Lords shift, reacting to his movements, the swell of power in the room scalding his senses. Suddenly, he felt something on his hand and blinked, opening his eyes. Surprised, he saw Feyre leaning forward, squeezing his wrist in concern, her eyes dark with worry.

"I know how much you're panicking right now, Tamlin. I'll never forget what it felt like seeing Rhysand on that battlefield…" She choked then, struggling to draw breath, Rhysand taking a step forward to reach for her but she stiffened, glancing sidelong at him and shaking her head before looking back at Tamlin. "You helped give him back to me that day...and you didn't have to. I  _will_ make things right for your mate."

Tamlin swallowed, uncomfortable with that mention of the past, but she shifted her conversation back to his question, the flash of emotion slowly fading from her face, though she did not let go of his wrist. "Vassa was cursed to live as a firebird by day, woman by night by her fellow rulers who got greedy at Hybern's offer of immortality. We learned of her as we were preparing for war. Lucien had offered to go find her, see if we could gather her armies to help us stand a chance against him. I amended it to follow the lunar phases so she only has to be a firebird during one lunar cycle a month after the defeat of Hybern."

Tamlin tensed, feeling his gut harden, before she smiled and looked back at him. "You're in luck….she doesn't have another cycle for a fortnight from now. We  _will_ get her back, Tamlin. Lucien will take you to her...won't you?" She looked back at Lucien, who had studied his friend with that familiar look of concern he remembered before he had left the Spring Court and things had gone so horribly south for them both.

He nodded when Feyre addressed him. "Of course. I don't want anyone to suffer, least of all Tamlin's mate."

Tamlin pulled back, gently removing Feyre's hand off his wrist. He glanced at Lucien, staring at him for several mingling seconds. Lucien's good eye shifted, sensing the unspoken question between them.  _Can we trust each other again? After all that's happened?_

Lucien nodded and swallowed, offering Tamlin a faint smile, answering the words that shifted nervously in his eyes. HIs shoulders eased and he returned the nod, shuddering off the slick feel of anxiety and standing - ready to  _move_  and  _find her_. "Then we leave now. I can't wait a minute longer."

Lucien rose and together, they moved towards the door, brushing past the other High Lords. He didn't care if they stayed - left or mingled - he had to find his mate. As Lucien followed, Tamlin meant to open his mouth, reaching for the door - to explain their barracks were sorely lacking for weapons and they'd have to handle the task of retrieving her with whatever they could find - when Cassian opened the door, staring hard at the male in front of him. Tamlin tensed, turning, shocked when Cassian grunted and then thrust two large bags of armor and weaponry at him and Lucien.

"Good luck, prick," Cassian barked at the stares of the two men, looking at Rhysand - who wore a tight-lipped smirk of amusement - before Tamlin and Lucien exchanged looks, accepting the bags and winnowing away towards the edge of the manor.

* * *

 

Shula jerked awake, her heart pounding painfully in her chest, as a waft of searing sourness spontaneously made her gasp and choke as it was brought up against her nose, blinking against the bright light overhead that shone in her eyes.

"Ah, there you are. Awake at last," commented an old woman, a small leather pouch of smelling salts in her wrinkled grasp. She grinned, flashing Shula a set of craggy teeth, and Shula staggered back a few steps, only to meet immediate protest, her wrists and ankles protesting against the metal bolts tied to the floor.

"You're a pretty thing. Must be all that High Fae blood in your bones now. You weren't nearly as attractive before," commented the crone, making Shula's brow furrow as she scanned the room she was in - recognizing neither the woman nor the place she was held.  _Where am I? Where is the alchemist? Is this one of the castles?_

"What is this place?" She whispered, turning her eyes away from the endless stone walls, the high banked windows with bars of brick and metal and mud, to look towards her captor that had woken her. "Who are you?"

The crone cackled, stepping forward, hunched over a cane and dressed in rags. "Who I am shouldn't be the question you're asking me. It's who I  _was_."

Shula stilled, staring into the fierce angry ones of the crone. Suddenly, it dawned on her. "The mortal queen who was cursed. To old age for eternity." She jerked back when the woman moved to touch her cheek, brush her gnarled fingers through her hair, still immeasurably weak due to the faebane still present in the collar she could feel, resting heavy against her neck. "W-What do you want?"

"What do you think?" The crone growled, narrowing her eyes. She stepped forward, making Shula scream as her fingers sank into Shula's hair and viciously hauled her forward. "I want your youth."

Panting, Shula winced and struggled against her grip, then suddenly began to laugh. "And how do you plan to accomplish that old woman? And how did you get my queen to agree?"

Suddenly, she heard the bolts of the heavy metal door across the room squeal and turn over. The crone grinned, forcefully turning her gaze towards the now-familiar man she'd met on the docks the previous day. He smiled darkly, his eyes flashing. "With my help, of course."

Shula swallowed, fear setting her insides ablaze as he moved forward, murmuring something. Suddenly, she felt a searing pain in her abdomen and screamed, wincing, unable to struggle out of the crone's grasp.

"And once I unlock whatever it was that transformed you, your Queen will grant me the one thing I want - the keys to Prythian." The man murmured, stilling as he saw Shula flinch. He blinked and laughed, running a hand over her stomach. "Interesting."

The crone narrowed her eyes, shoving the woman down. "What? What is it you sense? Will it work?"

"Oh, I think it'll work, but we've an added bonus in our midst. There won't be one I can take, but two. She's with child." The alchemist replied, looking over Shula with a cold clinical eye. "It'll take a little more work than originally planned but...I think you and my Queen will be most pleased with the result."

The crone stilled, then began to cackle, turning and looking down at Shula with the greedy narrow-eyed gaze of a woman about to get what she wanted - immortality, along with eternal youth. "Excellent."

Shula simply stared at them both, wide-eyed in horror and shock.  _With child? No...Oh God…_

She curled up into a ball, ignoring their excited whispers to one another, praying to anyone that would listen.  _Someone,_ _ **anyone**_ _\- help me…._ She forced down the sobs that wanted to spill past her lips, refusing to let them see the helplessness she felt in that moment. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her plea into the either, hoping he heard.  _Tamlin - please hurry. Our...child...is in danger._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For the mortal queens and this new bad dude - I'm drawing this from the fact that Azriel couldn't break into the mortal queen's place and that they could winnow (teleport). Clearly, they've got magic, though the "how" hasn't been supplied yet.
> 
> I'm going with the idea that they have a sect of morally corrupt mages (I'm calling them alchemists in this) - pretty much like Grand Maester Qyburn from GoT, that teaches the queens magic and protects their mortal world. For those who don't know what I'm talking about - basically in a quest to uncover magic and gain power, opened up some doors that were best left closed. He's (to me) essentially a necromancer. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, as they say.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Not too many more chapters - giving this a HEA and then probably bleeding some of this world building into a Lucien fic at some point.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You get a two-fer today. I only had a few plot points left to hit in this fic so just did it in one fell swoop. Thank you for reading this fic! Heavy author notes at the end of next chapter for future plans/responses to questions.

They landed together just along the border of the manor, noting a few patrolling sentries on rotation several hundred yards away. Despite their months away, the sentries remained strong in their training - moving quickly to draw near, weapons raised, only to back off when noting the two High Fae they found. Nodding at them, pleased they'd responded so quickly and lessening that fear that if he left, the manor would be open to attack, Tamlin turned, dropping the two bags and kneeling down, rummaging through the items Cassian had given them as Lucien moved closer.

Holding up the lllyrian armor and weaponry in question and quirking an eyebrow at his friend, who briefly tensed when the sentries moved past, he chuckled and shook his head as he rummaged through what Cassian had given him. "War camp armor? Seriously?"

"He's Illyrian and it's armor, you snob," Lucien laughed at Tamlin's faint growl and eyeroll, dropping a heavy glove to rummage further in the bags given. "Hold your tongue and just be thankful he even gave us anything at all," Lucien shrugged, grinning faintly as he reached for his own bag and slipped into the dark plated steel and leather, buckling it down and tugging his fingers along the chest piece. It fit oddly well, glancing to Tamlin with a smirk and giving him a 'See? Could be worse' look, then continued to slap the rest on quickly, covering his thighs, calves, arms and hands, dragging the scabbard and belt into place over his hips, sliding the short sword and daggers into place, snapping them into their holders.

Tamlin rolled his eyes again, muttering an obscenity under his breath that had Lucien laughing once more - something about a certain asshole Illyrian general and a stick up said ass - dropping his own wardrobe and dressing in the Night Court colors provided, feeling oddly out of place but also impressed at the manufacturing of the equipment that Lucien had picked up on. It was sturdy, not too heavy, and moved easily over his joints when he shifted, testing it a few times with a few parried thrusts, getting used to the gear once he slipped it on. He saw Lucien watch him out of the corner of his eye with an amused expression and it took considerable effort to not make a snarky retort at the look on his friend's face, though he was sorely tempted. Briefly, he smiled, realizing how much he'd missed that from his old friend and slung the blade home in his own scabbard, briefly rubbing a hand across his torso.

"Fine, you ass, I admit – it's good armor. You happy?" He finally muttered with a sigh, watching Lucien's lips quirk. Still, he couldn't resist a little jab at the absent General. "He knows I prefer bandoliers, the bastard." Lucien did laugh at that, Tamlin looking his way in amusement. "So I'm pretty sure that's a not-so-subtle 'Fuck you, prick,' but it'll do. You ready?"

Lucien nodded, stepping forward and grasping Tamlin by the shoulder, winnowing them away.

* * *

It took a few hours, but finally they reached the coast, Tamlin looking out over the sea with a frown. Glancing at his friend, he opened his mouth to ask how they planned to cross the narrow sea to the mortal continent below - his chest seizing painfully, realizing with terror he might be too late to save Shula if he had to travel by boat, as their winnowing would only get them so far and they were already fatigued at having winnowed across endless miles of Spring territory - when Lucien pointed in the distance, answering his question.

Tamlin turned, blinking in surprise, as Azriel, Rhysand's Spymaster, flew towards them with another Illyrian soldier at his side in the distance. " _They're_  helping us?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lucien shrugged, turning to look at Tamlin as they waited for the others to close the gap, still several miles away, gliding down the coastline from the north, where Night territory was. "He's got experience in the mortal realms, too. Rhysand sent him first, trying to get him to steal their half of the Book of Breathings to blow the cauldron to hell before the war started. He wasn't successful, but he's damned good at knowing their coastline and the layout of the castle. He's also eerily good at sneaking into places and rooms. Trust me, he's an asset."

Tamlin's heart suddenly turned to jagged ice in his chest, the beast wrestling briefly for control as he replayed Lucien's words in his head. " _What?_ " He rasped, knowing his voice sounded distorted and inhuman, even to his own ears. Lucien turned, eyeing him warily. Tamlin swallowed, closing his eyes and calming himself, before looking back at Lucien with an incredulous expression. "You're telling me  _Azriel_  couldn't get in? And you think  _we_  can?"

He grit his teeth, ignoring the fangs that sprang loose in his mouth, the talons that suddenly threatened to rip past his glove tips.  _What...in the_ _ **hell?**_   _Azriel couldn't infiltrate the mortal castles of the human cities across the narrow sea?_ _I can't lose her. I_ _ **can't.**_

He opened his eyes when he felt Lucien press a tight fist against his shoulder, giving him a rough squeeze. Lucien stared unflinchingly into his golden ones, knowing how Tamlin must have felt in that moment. "No, he couldn't," he replied honestly, ignoring Tamlin's growl - one of fear instead of warning - but continued on. "But he didn't have Vassa.  _We_ do. We  _will_ get in, Tamlin."

He relaxed, letting out a slow steady breath of air, watching Lucien study him then back off, dropping his hand and taking a few steps back, looking over to where Azriel and his companion drew closer, still several miles away but only separating them from joining Lucien and him by a few minutes, at least.

"How are you? How is...Elain, is it? Your mate?" Tamlin suddenly asked, wanting to know if Lucien was happier being in Night. Somehow, the thought pained him, another highlight of his past failures, but the grimace on Lucien's face made him pause - then instantly feel guilt at the satisfaction that Lucien's run off with Feyre had not given him the happy ending his friend had sought. "What is it? Tell me."

Lucien glanced over at Tamlin with a frown, his good eye and mechanical eye flicking over his form briefly, looking out to sea before replying. "You seem...different. Happy, even. In your right mind as well." He looked back at Tamlin, who denied none of it, shrugging. "All of this change because of your mate?"

"She's offered perspective on my past failures," he simply replied. Lucien tensed, looking out to sea again, and Tamlin suddenly sensed he was wondering how he would bridge the own gap between him and his mate - sensing by the tension straining Lucien's frame that things were  _not_ well between him and the Archeron sister. "I was luckier than most, my relationship with Shula has been shockingly simple. For once, karma took pity on me. Not without some consequence, mind you…."

When Lucien looked over, Tamlin shrugged again, this time being the one to look out to sea. "She was a captive of Hybern's and the queens of the continent. Thrown in the same cauldron that made your own mate into what she is now. When I found her... _Gods_ , Lucien, she was half-starved. They'd shoved her in a hole in the ground and just forgot about her." He heard Lucien's hiss of sympathy, continuing on.

"I let those fuckers into my land and they did that... _to my own damned mate_. If that wasn't a wakeup call after everything else, I don't know what is." He shuddered, closing his eyes a moment, remembering a flash of memory of when he found her - so weak she couldn't lift her head, so dirty he could barely make out her skin tone, eyes vacant and glassy, pleading in that threadbare voice so brokenly, his heart had instantly shattered even before he had known her.

"If I'd even have been a day or so later, she'd have died.  _Fuck,_ it was…" Tamlin shook his head, swallowing, glancing back at seeing Lucien staring at him intently, his eyes sharp, noting Tamlin's admittance of his own faults. "After that, we found camps of prisoners. We saw women being raped, men being beaten, children being torn from their parents, others being butchered...and I let them in. I let them  _in_ , Lucien…."

He turned away, a harsh sound of disgust in his throat. Lucien didn't move, but he didn't walk away either, so Tamlin tilted his head back but wasn't brave enough yet to meet Lucien's eyes. "I don't blame you, you know…" He muttered, hearing Lucien go deathly still. "For leaving, that is. You should have told me about Ianthe but...there was many things you should have told me, or maybe you tried and I just wouldn't listen."

He shrugged his shoulders, turning, looking Lucien in the eye. His friend stared back, saying nothing, an unreadable expression on his face, before he finally shrugged. "We both fucked up. I should have never left. I'd known what Feyre did, I could have at least intervened...but I didn't."

"They had your mate, Lucien," Tamlin frowned. "The Night Court had your mate and if I know Feyre, she wasn't going to let you see her." Lucien tensed and Tamlin held up a hand in warning. "I know you're still friends with her and I don't mind. I can even see why she did what she did in some ways. I don't hate her, if that has you worried. This isn't a moment to hash out why we did the things we did. We  _did_ them,  _end of story_."

Lucien blinked, surprised at what Tamlin said. "End of story, huh? You buried the hatchet -  _just like that?_ "

"Yes," replied Tamlin, keeping his answer simple. "I'm tired of fighting, Lucien. You've seen my court, look what that got me. I'm tired of it all, and I love Shula. She helped me get over all of...this." He gestured between them, to the Illyrians almost closing in, back towards the Spring Court and across the sea, wherever Shula was. He looked as tired as he felt at that moment, giving Lucien a glimpse into how he felt, letting the expression flicker thoroughly over his face. "I just want my mate back, my court back to rights and...just finally enjoy life. Have some children, make things...better than they've been. Have some fucking peace for once. We're going to tear each other apart if we keep this up and I'm sick of it."

Lucien smiled, making Tamlin pause as Azriel and his companion landed, glancing between them as they moved to grip them and launch back into the sky.

"What?" He asked gruffly, unnerved by the glimmer in Lucien's good eye. Azriel said nothing as he came up alongside Tamlin, the unknown Illyrian warrior coming up beside Lucien.

His friend simply shrugged, smiling. "It's good to have the  _real_  you back."

Tamlin paused, glancing over at Lucien, then offering him a faint smile. He caught Azriel's gaze, who said nothing, nodding faintly and letting the two Illyrians know they were ready. Without a second glance, Azriel gripped him and the other gripped Lucien and they were shooting across the sky like a spark, heading towards the rendezvous point that Lucien said Vassa would meet them.

* * *

They arrived on the banks of an unfamiliar coast a few hours later, gliding in so quietly amongst the starry night sky like a blur of sheer darkness, Tamlin felt comfortable that they would not be discovered. Faintly, in the distance, he could sense a city that rivaled any of the fae courts back home and swallowed, surprised at the significant power the mortals seemed to hold. He hadn't expected such impressive structures and was able to tell how well-crafted they were, even from this distance.

Landing on their feet, he stepped away as soon as Azriel landed, studying those structures he'd caught sight of as Lucien and his companion joined them. Frowning, he looked back over at the Spymaster and his friend as the cliffside they'd gathered on remained ominously bereft of others besides them. "They said they'd meet us here?"

Lucien nodded and Tamlin glanced around, letting out a faint growl of frustration. "Then where are they? You're sure we can't get in ourselves?" He looked over towards Azriel, who glanced back his way and shook his head silently. " _Fuck_ ," he snarled, running a vicious hand through his hair in frustration. He was  _so close_ , damnit.  _Where the fuck ARE they?_

"Well hello to you, too," drawled an amused feminine tone from his far right, making Tamlin whirl. He blinked, watching as a red-haired mortal shimmered into existence, where no one had been standing moments before. She smirked, raising a hand when Tamlin started towards her, palm up, and several guards appeared behind her, stepping forward, weapons drawn, in a shimmering silver armor that looked oddly imbued with magic.

"We meet again," Lucien smiled, coming over to greet Vassa, surprising Tamlin when he embraced the woman with a hug. Glancing sidelong at Azriel and the other Illyrian, briefly feeling embarrassed he hadn't asked the man's name, when the Spymaster simply flicked him a look and shrugged a shoulder, his expression blank. It seemed the Spymaster was as at much of a loss as he was. He turned, watching the two greet each other, arching an eyebrow at a few of the teasing comments bantering back and forth before he stepped forward.

"Sorry to interrupt your little reunion, but my mate…" he paused, glancing at the mortal woman and her soldiers, wondering if they'd understand the term, amending what he said, "...my  _wife_  is in that castle, being held by one of your fellow rulers.  _Can we cut the shit and go now?_ " His last words ended on a growl and he knew he looked every bit the monster they claimed him to be as the soldiers at her side dragged their blades up and pointed them at him.

Vassa signaled them to lower their weapons as Lucien winced and stepped back. The mortal queen stepped forward, inspecting Tamlin with a thorough look that unnerved him. "Yes, I suppose we should." She turned, flicking her wrist towards the castle. "She's being held in the south tower, where my sister queen, Amelia, holds her. You'd know her...the crone, remember?" Tamlin tensed and Vassa nodded as she noted Tamlin's recognition of the name, glancing back at the castle. "She's hired a particular alchemist I've no taste for. His methods are...questionable."

"Alchemist? Why?" Tamlin frowned, his stomach tightening. He'd heard of them from some of the refugees that sheltered in his court and wondered what they had to do with Shula's disappearance, suddenly sensing with dread what Vassa was about to say. When she confirmed it, he had to physically restrain himself from not shifting to the beast and hurling himself towards that city in the distance.

"She wants what Shula has...a perfect High Fae, youthful body. He's promised to give it to her and...given what he's done for them in the past, I don't doubt he's capable of it." Vassa replied, dropping her hand, her expression dark as she looked back at the other fae. Tamlin and Lucien stared, aghast, and even Azriel perked up at this comment.

"By the looks on your faces, you truly thought us mortals incapable of such magical feats." No one dared reply, but her smirk answered what they were thinking. "We can. We're not as naturally gifted as you, so we gain power in others ways…some seeking routes that most condemn, the alchemist order of the south being one of them. My sisters became greedy when your enemy, King Hybern, and that man came to their court. It was he who put me in this form, you know." Her bitterness was apparent and Tamlin blinked in shock that news. The expression on his face made her laugh.

"You think you're the only ones with problems? Wait until you meet our people," Vassa replied, meaning the comment as a jest to lighten the mood, but it only darkened it further.

Casting a glance between the others present, Tamlin frowned. "How long until he casts this...spell? Experiment? I don't give a fuck  _what_  it is, I want my wife back before he harms her. What do we have to do to get in?"

"Leave that to me," Vassa smiled, turning and motioning to her guards. They moved over to Tamlin and the others, thrusting some shawls their way. "Dress in those and follow them. I'm afraid use of magic will only draw their attention. The point-blank explanation of why I'm making you walk the rest of the way is...there's no breaking this ward magic. But, there's a soiree tomorrow evening. If you time it right, with my presence causing a stir, you'll be able to slip in as the defenses are lowered to allow our noble classes to attend the event."

"That's a huge risk you're taking," Lucien noted, frowning as he studied Vassa with concern. Once again, Tamlin caught himself staring at the easy camaraderie between Lucien and the mortal woman in front of him, raising his eyebrows, curious at the exchange between them. Vassa simply shrugged, drawing on her magic and shimmering slowly out of view, but not before answering Lucien's question.

"That's my problem, not yours. I've my reasons. If they arrest me, so be it. In a fortnight, there won't be anything in their arsenal that could hold me back in that form anyways," her eyes glittered as she flashed them a toothy smile, full of bitter eagerness, and she blinked out of existence, leaving Tamlin and the others with the soldiers, who motioned for them to move along with them towards the city in question.

"Hell, she's hoping they leave her in there. She's going to destroy them," muttered Lucien, as they began to move. Azriel said nothing but Tamlin's eyes caught his and the Spymaster smiled. If Vassa did such a thing, Azriel would have the access he wanted to the ruins - and there would still be secrets to be had, even in the rubble and aftermath of that encounter.

Shrugging off that curious bit of information, Tamlin moved alongside the others, marching towards the castle in the distance.

_I'm coming, Shula. Hang in there, love. Please hang in there._

* * *

Shula screamed, bucking against the pain, as she sagged and strained against the metal cuffs holding her in place. She spat at the alchemist that stood over her, staring at her with a detached expression full of concentration, once more panting a whirl of spell work over her torso, breasts, directly above her womb and legs, trying to find the right combination that would lift that magic that had made her High Fae and transfer it to the crone who sat idly in one corner, watching the display with eager, greedy eyes.

Sobbing faintly, she rolled her head away, closing her eyes, humiliated, helpless - stretched across the board they'd tied her to, worried about the babe in her stomach. Each subsequent spell weakened her further and she worried, by the gleam in his eye, that he was drawing close to the spell needed to simply unravel and kill her, giving that bitch of a queen across the room true power.

She had pleaded with him earlier, her voice hoarse from those efforts, and he ignored her. She realized after several hours of sobbing, gasping and shrieking for mercy, there was nothing she could offer him that he wanted. His price was knowledge and that was only gained by completing the spell he was doing. If he unlocked how to make a High Fae without the use of the cauldron, that would make him immeasurably powerful in the eyes of the mortals. It sickened her to watch the gleam in his eyes grow more heated the longer he worked, able to sense he was close.

 _Tamlin, hurry, please…_ She grimaced, then wrenched against the bonds holding her in place as he chanted another string of words that felt  _wrong_  against her ear and a searing pain swept through her body. She gasped, her eyes going wide, as she felt something  _shift_ inside her, centered in her lower stomach, and then she screamed - a guttural, wounded sound - the man's excited chant telling her he'd figured it out and he was trying to claim her  _child -_ and she struggled so hard, she heard and faintly felt the snap of one of her wrist bones. She didn't care, this was her and Tamlin's  _child_  in jeopardy, and she screamed again, unable to comprehend that loss.  _No! No, no, no!_ _ **NO! TAMLIN!**_

Suddenly, a roar rent the air and she turned just as the bolted doors were being mauled and dented inwards, the boom sounding echoing loudly off the walls as the stone masonry shuddered under the impact. The alchemist's chant was interrupted as he turned, realizing what was interrupting them. Even the crone, who had launched to her feet and ran up beside Shula, somehow sensing from her scream that his spell was seconds away from working, turned to see what awaited them.

Tears streamed past her face as she sobbed openly, seeing the faint hint of talons and then a massive golden beast, eyes in a mindless glowing rage as it stripped the door from its hinges, sending it flying as it shattered that last barrier between them and it with another roar of bristling fury. It crashed through the doorway, its fur and large maw with dripping red fangs coated with buckets of gleaming fresh blood, snarling as it caught sight of her and the two next to her.

The alchemist stiffened, raising a hand to chant something else, when it moved, plowing through the room so fast it seemed a blur, the air charged and static, making Shula dizzy against the swell of power in the room. The crone grabbed her cane, trying to hobble out the door as the alchemists screams tore through the air, accompanied with the wet sickening sounds of flesh and limb being shredded into visceral ragged parts.

Shula struggled to keep her eyes open, dizziness and fatigue almost claiming her, opening her eyes to shout that  _she_ was escaping but unable to, too weak to muster even a whisper. She watched in helpless fury as the crone neared the doorway, almost slipping through, but at the last second, a shadow blurred into existence, swinging a sword in one savage arc, light glinting off the blade as the Illyrian she remembered seeing at the High Court alongside Rhysand decapitated the woman in one fell swoop - eerily quiet in the act, the only noise being the sounds of Tamlin eviscerating the alchemist and the roll of the crone's head across the stone floor.

She swallowed, shocked at the blank expression still on the male's face as he turned sharply, staring at her. Humiliation stung her cheeks as she laid splayed there, completely nude, wanting more than anything to be free so she could scrub these disgusting marks off her skin. He turned his head, whistling sharply at Tamlin, then jerking his gaze to her on the table before vanishing back into the shadows as if he never was.

Suddenly, the sounds of tearing flesh stopped. She tilted her head, feeling a set of shaking blood-stained hands stroking her cheeks. "Shula?"

She blinked, seeing Tamlin's face, his eyes full of worry, expression torn between love and despair at seeing her strapped to the board, naked and abused, and she broke into a fit of forceful sobs, closing her eyes as she strained forward. She felt him rip the metal cuffs from her wrist, noting her injured arm, before he cradled her tightly to his chest, sinking to the floor. He snatched the first piece of cloth he found, draping her in it and holding her so close she almost felt stifled, but she tightened her shaking limbs around his torso before he could pull away.

"You came," she whispered, hiccuping softly as she cried. "You saved me,  _again._  I love you so much," she weakly rolled her head back, studying his face. She noted he was crying and smiled, exhausted beyond measure, but everything was going to be alright, she could feel it in her bones. Even their child was going to be okay. She closed her eyes, sagging weakly in his grip, the collar pulsing against her neck as she grimaced, reaching for her. Her hand dropped as she heard his snarl, then felt the collar removed by his hands and the weakness somewhat receded, but not enough to overcome the blackness that danced along the edges of her vision, slowly slipping towards unconsciousness. "So tired…"

"I need a healer!" She heard him scream when she failed to respond, shaking her shoulders. " _Now,_ damnit!"

Trying to comfort him, she struggled briefly in his grip, but exhaustion won and she slipped into unconsciousness before she could form words.


	17. Chapter 17

_Part Six – H.O.P.E. (Hold On, Pain Ends)_

* * *

Shula woke up in Tamlin's arms, back in their bed at the Spring Court. Shivering despite being encompassed and sheets and her mate's body heat, she canted her head back to meet his eyes even as his arms tightened around her and one palm came up to gently stroke her cheek.

"Shula?"

She smiled, staring into those beautiful worried eyes of the male she loved. "Hi," she finally commented, leaning up to kiss him gently on the mouth. He shuddered, a rough groan escaping his lips as the tension in his frame eased, realizing she was alright.

"Hi," he murmured back, a small smile teasing at his lips. She noted he was pleasantly without a tunic but as her fingers brushed along his torso, she noted his breeches in place. Looking down, she noted she wore a soft cotton gown of white fabric.

"When did we…? How did we….?" She struggled to ask, glancing back up at him as he sat up and rolled, running a hand across her chest, tugging the sheets tighter.

"A few days ago. You've been out except for brief periods of restlessness, speaking gibberish. Whatever magic they used made you terribly ill." He rumbled, his voice turning hoarse as his eyes shifted golden and she noted the faint extending of his incisors.

She stiffened, her eyes going wide.  _Oh god, the baby..._ She opened her mouth to tell him, a soft sob escaping her, body curling inward out of an instinctual need to protect, when Tamlin's hands stilled her, then smoothed along her stomach, resting against the curve of her belly with trembling fingers.

"The babe is fine. You are fine, we're all fine," he murmured, glancing up, a sheen of tears in his eyes. "You knew? When?"

"That man told me. He was trying to take it f-from m-me, w-when you burst in the room…" She whispered, her voice breaking, a soft sob escaping her lips again as she started to cry in earnest, but for all the right reasons.  _She_  was safe,  _their baby_  was safe,  _he_  was safe - they were back home once more...and everything was going to be alright.

He tugged her close to his chest, shuddering with barely suppressed fury. "I should have made him suffer more for what he tried," he snarled, his tone sounding distorted and completely inhuman. She felt his talons skirt along her back and snuggled closer, feeling safe in his arms. For everyone else that called him a monster, he was her protector - he'd saved her again.

"The...other one...that Azriel killed. She was the crone that Hybern cursed." She whispered, pulling back, looking into his golden eyes that threatened to shift at any moment to the beast. "What of the castle? The mortal lands? Those...people that wanted to do this to me?"

Tamlin smiled, tipping his head down to kiss her gently. "Don't worry about that now. For now, you rest. You and my future son need to recover properly before we drag more world chaos back into your lives."

 _Future son, huh?_ She smirked and saw his grin - but then it sobered into a look of desperate awe as he stared. His voice was a broken whisper when it finally reached her ears. " _I love you so much._  I was half out of my  _mind_  when they took you. If I'd lost you, I…"

She pressed a hand to his mouth, leaning up and kissing him as he coveted her close, his frame trembling. "I love you, too. It's over now, Tamlin. That's what matters."

He groaned, drawing out the kiss, his hands skirting along her hips as he shifted closer. Still, she sensed he held himself back, feeling that familiar hardness at her side. When she reached for him, he withdrew. "Later, dearest. Please, keep sleeping. The healers said you need a few more days to be fully recovered. I swear it on my life's blood I'll make your body sing for mine soon, but right now I need you to rest."

She nodded, understanding, but couldn't resist trailing her eyes lower, meeting his as she pressed a hand against his erection. He groaned, his eyes closing as he bucked once against her exploring fingers, but when she went to unbutton his hands - offering her hand - he reached down and gently removed her grip, bringing it up to his mouth to press kisses along her knuckles despite the soft glow of hunger she saw in his eyes. " _Gods,_  please don't. I can't handle even your hand, I'll be in you if you keep that up. There's no way my first spend after getting you back is going to be anywhere except inside you." She shuddered, growing warm and wet at his words and he smiled faintly, enjoying the blush that krept over her face. " _Soon._ So help me gods -  _soon._ For now,  _sleep._  I'll come check on you in a few hours."

He sat up and suddenly her pulse ricocheted in her ears and she bolted upright, remembering all those times she was alone on that boat - in those chambers, in that cell in the Spring Court.  _Don't leave! Please!_

She couldn't explain the sudden irrational fear but the sound of her soft sob that escaped her lips as she clung to him when he moved to leave the bed sent her message across. He stopped, frowning, easing back down on the bed and cupping her cheek. "Shula? Are you alright?"

" _No,_  please - stay." She whispered, wrapping her hands tightly around his wrist, eyes pleading. "I just want to sleep with you beside me for a little while. Stay? At least until I fall asleep?"

His expression softened as he nodded, laying back down beside her and drawing her into the strong embrace of his arms. "Always, Shula."

She shuddered, instantly released and crawling as close as she could that would still allow her to breathe and eventually fell asleep.

* * *

Tamlin moved down the hall after quietly closing the door to their bedroom, nodding to the two sentries standing outside the door. It took every bit of his newfound nature to resist restricting her in the grounds but he resisted, remembering how well that turned out the last time he lured himself into the urge to overprotect, motioning them to leave her doorway and resume their normal posts. Taking a slow breath, he moved away from the door, smiling faintly as he moved towards the study to met with his newfound Ambassador who had taken to his role with vigor, seeing to most of the manor business so Tamlin could focus on meetings at the Court of Dawn that continued even moreso now than before, after what occured between the Autumn Court and the Mortal Realms below.

Kristoph looked up and smiled as Tamlin entered, others at his side - a mixture of High Fae, Lesser Fae and humans alike. His court was unique in all of Prythian since it had been re-established and he took a certain pride in the looks of approval in each of their faces. More continued to come each day and - through his subject's insistence and the people below the wall that had previously been in place - he had extended his lands to encompass the rest of that area, giving people food, shelter and protection. He knew, at their current rate of growth, that more mortals would come, remembering to bring up that question in a later meeting at the next High Court session, remembering the fallout from when they'd taken Shula back and Vassa had exposed that Mortal Queen's duplicitous and greedy nature. Most had been horrified, but not all had taken the message well. That made him wary but he was doing his best to prepare in the event things escalated.

Shula seemed to understand over the next few days. She asked him what was bothering him one night, after they'd once more laid side by side in that bed - his dick throbbing, body desperate to sink into her warm heat - his hands stroking her cheek as a frown tore at his features. He glanced at her and she waited patiently for him to answer. He rubbed a free hand across his brow, his jaw flexing, then gave her a small smile.

"Back when I was Under the Mountain...that place Amarantha locked us up in, made us watch as Feyre completed her trials...I couldn't do a thing. I could just watch, helpless, while the woman I loved was being tortured in front of me. I couldn't stand it - I was Tamlin, the beast, the monster, the one with all this brute strength….but I couldn't do a damned thing. I was afraid to do a damned thing - what if I acted and she killed her or worse? Cast us all into that hell of hers?" He shook his head, feeling her still beside him, her hand reaching up to lace her fingers with his and squeeze. "It broke something in me, even worse than before - after the other things, after Amarantha, after the war and the ruin of the courts, and I...well, you know. I went a little crazy. I'm struggling, Shula, not to do the same with you, but it's hard. It's so damned hard not to want to keep you in here forever, away from anything that could take you from me."

"I know you're struggling, Tamlin. That's why I'm still in bed, despite feeling fine. I don't mind the extra guards - in fact, I appreciate them." She murmured, making him still and look over at her, blinking slowly. She shrugged with a smile, pulling closer. "Feyre and I are two different women, Tamlin. Feyre went through something awful and the one way she knew to survive it was to fight. So it's natural that once she was out of that place, she would be aggressive. You, on the other hand, were bound helpless, and your nature to protect kicked into overdrive. Is it any wonder you two didn't fit after you returned? You wanted to keep her away from the struggle when all she wanted to do was punch her way through it. It would have failed regardless because neither of you were willing to tell the other the problem."

He blinked again, having never thought of it that way. He frowned, tipping his head away, but drew it back when Shula gently urged him to look back her way. She smiled faintly and leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on his lips, despite the vicious response it echoed down his body, as she continued. "I know why you two tried for so long after. You felt guilty for admitting internally it wasn't working and your love story had become a public affair. Everyone knew the story of the human girl turned fae who had saved you and your people and to have it fail showed weakness, at least you thought it did."

Shula rested her head in the crook of his shoulder as she snuggled close, her hand splaying across his chest, over his heart. "But it's not weakness, Tamlin. It's just how it is sometimes. Coming back from something like that...changes people. My time in those places certainly changed  _me._  I don't mind the protection, but I will promise one thing to you Feyre never did - I will  _always_ be forthright. If you're doing something that I don't like, you'll know it. I won't make you guess. Deal?"

"Deal," he whispered, staring at her with growing hunger. She canted her head up and saw the ravenous look in his eye and smiled, reaching up and tugging down the top of her gown, displaying her breasts.

He didn't need another hint that she was fine and well, groaning as he shifted quickly, hiking up her gown and freeing himself, already aching and hard as a rock, desperate to be inside her. She moaned, her back arching, as his cock teased at her entrance. When he didn't move, just stared at her in awe, she looked back at him with a snarl.

"Don't you dare stop now," she hissed, making him growl softly in amusement, then sunk in slowly, shuddering as he heard her soft cries of pleasure. She squeezed and fluttered around him, already warm and moist as he began to move.

" _Fuck,_  you feel so good around me. Squeeze down, like that.  _Yes_...Shula -  _fuck_  - I'm going to…" He groaned, picking up the pace, unable to help the jolt of electric pleasure that sizzled down his nerves as her sheath tightened and her hips began a slow rock forward in tandem with his own heavy thrusts. Within seconds, he was close to losing himself inside her.

"Me too," she whispered, her eyes half-closed, a loud moan burst past her lips. " _Oh god_  -  _ **Tamlin**_ …"

He suddenly felt it as she arched, her back jackknifing in the bed as she screamed. Her body rippled around his, her sheath milking his cock in such tight concentrated bursts that he roared, losing himself completely as he rutted in hard, deep strokes, only stilling at the last moment as sparks of oblivion shot along his skin and he was pouring himself inside her.

He couldn't describe how it felt if he wanted to. She took it  _all_  - all his pain, all his faults, and willed them inside her, coveted them - her emotions and her orgasm searing the inside of his mind as she held him close and bucked, still coming tightly around him, drawing out his own explosive climax as he struggled to breathe, to think, to do anything but continue to feel his cock rocking between thrusts and small explosions inside his mate - hard, deep,  _forever._

* * *

"Just a few more steps...okay, stop."

Tamlin kept his eyes closed, amused as he settled down on a grassy spot beneath his feet, folding his legs as he settled, listening to Shula rustle with something. He sniffed, smelling crisp grass, the faint scent of pollen and the distant hint of pine and knew she'd taken him somewhere along the estate grounds, dragging him from yet another meeting with Kristoph - this time with Lucien and Tarquin present - all looking contrite but by the smiles tugging at their lips, he knew they were privy to whatever it was Shula had planned.

"You can open them now," she whispered.

He did, taking her in as he blinked, looking behind her. His heart seized as he stared openly, a soft hesitation in his breathing telling her how awed he was.

Behind her, the rose garden was a marvel to behold. It wasn't the same as it was before - but it was close. Unable to understand, he looked at her, noticing she'd made them a picnic near the garden. His eyes rose to hers again, wide, knowing what she was doing. He'd told her about the mating ritual of a female presenting a male with a meal and what it meant - a symbolic meaning that the female accepted the bond - and the pleased smile on her face told him she knew exactly what she had done.

"Thesan helped," she gestured behind her. "He visited a few days past and...did you know he can heal not only people...but plants? Fancy that." She smiled, popping a strawberry from the feast in front of them into her mouth.

"I…" He swallowed, staring, close to tears. "I love you. I…" He shook his head, at a loss.

Shula used that moment to scoot forward, reaching down and offering him a slice of some warm confection in her hand. She gestured to it, smiling sheepishly. It seemed a mixture of meringue and custard filling and as he bit into it, his eyes never leaving hers, he groaned, his head rolling back as he swallowed.

It was the best thing he'd ever tasted in his life.

"You...made this?" He whispered, glancing back at her only after he finished the entirety of the sweet. She nodded and looked pleased when he grinned back and asked, "Do you have any more?"

Laughing, she handed him another slice and he drug her close, feeding her bites between his own.

* * *

Glancing at each other, they smiled, for once unafraid to show all the emotions on their face as they walked across the white marble atrium where the other High Lords - even Eris - rose to greet them.

"Welcome back, High Lady Spring. Congratulations on the news of a child." Thesan greeted, gesturing them to take their seats, leaning over and taking Shula's hand in his with a smile. Dropping a kiss to her wrist, Shula glanced around the room as the others smiled back, surprising her with the warmth on display.

Settling into her seat alongside Tamlin, they looked at one another before Thesan cleared his throat.

"Shall we begin?" He asked, turning to look over his shoulder, where Shula noted with a grin as a human queen with red hair entered.

"Indeed," Vassa and Shula murmured together as the woman came and sat down beside her. They smiled at each other and, after glancing at Tamlin and taking his hand in hers, waited for the High Court session to begin.

* * *

 

_This is the conclusion to **Part One** of my series ['A Court of Wishes and Dreams'](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1162292). _

_Shula and Tamlin's story will continue in other stories in this series as well as additional one-shots that stike my fancy._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insanely long author note about future fic plans and some questions asked via my old (and now defunct) tumblr, so feel free to skip if you don't want to read.
> 
> The next few stories planned are -Nessian, Azriel's story, Elucien, Morrigan's story, Amren's story, and I'm debating on a Tarquin and/or Eris story. All will be linked to the series found in the above hyperlink, so if you want to continue the story, feel free to give it a follow.
> 
> Everyone seems to like my "Evil Mortal Queens/Alchemist" idea so expect future stories to flesh this out further.
> 
> To follow up on a few questions around the Merrick character - and I apologize if I kept it too vague, been trying my best to provide snippets of backstory on characters, as I have a few reader friends reading this that haven't read the books but support my writing and read my fics (I LOVE YOU BTW) - Merrick was an OC assassin/merc creation of mine with allegiance to the Autumn court. Given how shady they're claimed to be (probably second worst court only next to Court of Nightmares) - I would fully expect Beron to employ these kind of shady fuckers willing to do any kinds of dirty work to keep his position. He was notably older than all the other High Lords in the book and conniving and willing to kill his son's lover just because he hated lesser fae, so it made sense he'd employ someone like that. Remember that Beron in the books didn't join the alliance between the courts, almost joining with Hybern in the first war if I remember correctly (the one that freed the humans from slavery to the fae) and it was only Tamlin that forced his hand into joining the other fae at the last minute to finally kill Hybern for good.
> 
> Now, I see Beron as PISSED about that because not only did it make him look weak to the other High Lords, it made him look weak in his own court. Merrick, who is clearly a shady fucker and willing to do whatever, was asked to sell Shula back to the mortals since Tamlin had already ruined his own rep as being an "off the wheels crazy monster" and Beron had hoped Tamlin would go full monster and he'd get his revenge by being able to convince the others to just get rid of him and his court, and Beron would control even more land since his bordered Spring. He wasn't banking on Shula being his mate and how much the other High Lords would like her and - he fucked up so bad it got him killed. So, hope that makes sense.
> 
> Again - bless you all for making my writer heart happy you enjoyed this story so much. I can't wait to show you what else I have planned.


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